


Once Upon a Time

by JCRGirl



Series: Life is A Fairytale [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCRGirl/pseuds/JCRGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Happily Ever After Deserves a Once Upon a Time. The story of how Jensen and Jared from Happily Ever After got where they are now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to my story Happily Ever After. Don't need to read that to understand this. Happily Ever After is a mpreg story, but this one is not.

Brakes squealing, metal rending, glass breaking, the world passing in a blur of green and black and brown, then nothing but silence and darkness.

There was fire licking up his legs, iced flames that burned without heat. Every inch, from hip to toes, seared and scorched from the inside. His mind was still in the darkness, but sound started to trickle in. Words, disjointed and without context, floated in – _incomplete, motor, walk_ – and underneath a current of heartbreak. He tried to move his legs, but the order got lost, the message set aflame by the pain and turned to ash before it reached its destination. His hands obeyed and he clutched the blanket, the coarse material grounding against his fingertips.

“Jay? Can you hear me?”

“JT? Come on, baby. Open your eyes.”

He knew those voices. They were familiar, felt of comfort and home. He swam past the confusion, up through the oppressive black toward them. They’d make the pain go away, they’d keep him safe.

He opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. The light was too bright after so much time without it, a mole thrust into the noon-day sun. Cautiously, he blinked them open again. Starting with mere slits, he progressed until her could open them all the way.

Faces swarmed above him and he recognized them all – his mother, father, brother, Chad, Jensen. They all talked at once and he couldn’t make out what any one person was saying. He looked from one to the other then back again but it was all just a cacophony of noise. A shrill whistle split the air and the room fell quiet – not silent, silent was before, just quiet. Jared could hear the birds singing happily outside his window and the routine traffic of a busy hospital past his door. He knew he was in a hospital, it’s the only place that can look this bland and smell this sterile.

“One at a time. We’re overwhelming him,” Aaron stated and Jared tried to smile, but thought it might have come out crooked. Aaron was always the smart one.

“JT, baby,” his mom leaned over the rail and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “Do you know who I am?”

His body felt consumed by the pain, a raw nerve exposed, and all he wanted was something to make it go away, but he could see the anxiety on everyone’s faces, they needed to hear he was okay. Swallowing, he worked saliva down his parched throat and bit off a gasp when he shifted and the fire went acetylene blue. “Momma,” he croaked in an imitation to make Kermit proud.  

“Good, baby. That’s good,” she praised, the assembly smiling and nodding like he’d said something brilliant instead of repeating his first word. “Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital.” It finished as a whisper, voice abandoning him. He gritted his teeth to keep from groaning, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Jensen moved to the other side of the bed and pushed a button on the rail. Sweet relief flooded Jared’s veins, quelling the flames. Jared sighed gratefully and placed his hand over Jensen’s in appreciation, the contact extinguishing the residual embers cold-smoldering down his thighs.  

“That’s right, sweetheart,” she beamed and Jared half expected her to give him a gold star like she does her kindergarteners. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say more, but eventually closed it, settling on smiling at him instead.

He glanced around. Their faces were lined heavily with fatigue, the kind of exhaustion that came from too much worry over too long of a period. His gaze landed on Jensen – green eyes dull and red-rimmed, hair mussed from nervous hands anxiously pulling, face pale from sleepless nights – he’d seen him like that once before and more than anything else, it scared him. Over the last few years Jensen had been through so much, lost so much, Jared couldn’t – _wouldn’t_ – add to it. Gathering his resolve, he squeezed his friend’s hand and forced himself to smile reassuringly, receiving the faintest ghost of the smile in return. “Jen,” he shook the hand, “I’m all right.” He was, except for the now abated pain.

Jensen licked his lips and Jared saw the fortifying breath he took. “Jay…” His lips trembled then refused to move. His nostrils flared convulsively and he looked to the ceiling, blinking away suspicious wetness.

Maybe Jared wasn’t as okay as he thought. “W-Wh,” Jared cleared his throat, “what happened?”

Jensen’s hand tightened around his, the pressure blanching his fingers. Jared forced himself to look at the others. Aaron stared down at the white blanket covering Jared’s feet. Chad, his frenetic friend who was constantly in a state of motion, stood statue-still, eyes fixed on the monitor over Jared’s bed. The blood had drained from his mother’s face and tears spilled down winter-white cheeks. She turned a pleading gaze to his father. 

Adam Padalecki was a mountain of a man – six foot four and two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle that age had not diminished. Jared believed him invincible, unflappable, _unbreakable_ , but he was wrong. Adam Padalecki may have been a mountain of a man, but he was still just a man. His father’s voice cracked, emotion breaking it. “Son, there’s been an accident.”


	2. Friends: Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special love to my wonderful beta Deansdirtybb for wading through my drivel to make it something readable. Thanks, bb!

Jensen and his mother moved to town when he was seven. His father had been gone for six years already – left them behind to chase dreams that didn’t include a wife and small child – and despite his absence, they were happy. He sat in the backseat of his mother’s car as she drove down the road, wide eyes taking in the tree-lined street and porch-fronted houses. As they pulled in the driveway, he saw two boys playing the in the neighboring back yard and by the time he’d gotten free of his seatbelt, they’d migrated to the fence separating his new house from theirs. Curious eyes watched him through the honey-combed pattern of the chain link, one set a foot higher than the other, and after a few minutes of consideration he heard the older boy call out to him.

He cautiously made his way over and they exchanged shy introductions. Jensen learned that Aaron, the bigger boy, was seven like him and that the smaller boy, Jared, was three. When Aaron held out a Pickachu figurine and asked if he wanted to play Pokemon, Jensen knew they were going to be best friends.

Time did nothing to change this opinion. The lives of the Padaleckis and Ackles became intertwined, meshing together to form one large family. Where it had always been Jensen and his mother, he now other people who loved him. Jensen and Aaron were inseparable, one never without the other, and, by default, Jensen inherited a little brother. Jared was never one of those pesky little brothers that Aaron and Jensen heard their classmates complain about. He was whip-smart and funny. He was an accomplice in most of their troublemaking and never once ratted them out, even under pain of punishment. He followed them everywhere, always smiling, always happy. They were the Three Musketeers, right up until the moment Aaron and Jensen became freshmen in high school and it was suddenly social suicide to spend so much time with an eleven-year-old kid.

They steadily distanced themselves from the younger boy, made new friends, leaving Jared behind and alone. True to his kind, gentle nature, Jared never let his hurt show and never once answered Aaron and Jensen’s ignoring dismissals with anger or bitterness. He treated the situation with more maturity than either of the older boys could ever hope to, hiding his heartbreak at losing his best friends.

Jensen and Aaron were never cruel to Jared, but it didn’t stop them from allowing their friends to be. Neither of the older boys would stand for someone to lay hands on Jared, but words? They’d grown up with a sticks-and-stones mentality so it all seemed harmless. In their defense, some things seem so innocuous in the beginning, so superficial, and it’s only years later that the depth of the matter is truly revealed.

They were huddled in the Padalecki’s living room with their friends, the fruits of their pantry raid littered over, under and around the coffee table. Teenage bodies were spread lazily on every piece of furniture and the majority of the available floor space. Looney Tunes played on the television, the boys watching in drowsy, half-lidded interest.

“Hey, guys? Have you seen the…” Jared stopped in the doorway, surprised at the company. “Oh, sorry. Was just looking for the Oreos.”

“Oh, look,” David sneered, “it’s your puppy dog.”

“Your pudgy puppy,” Sean corrected, shoving a handful of Doritos in his mouth. “I’d lay off the Oreos if I was you, kid.” He spit shards of chips as he crunched and spoke at the same time.

Jensen frowned at the insult and looked closely at Jared for the first time in a long time. Jared looked much as he always had, maybe a little sadder, except now that Sean had mentioned it, Jared was a bit thicker around the middle, the apples of his cheeks rounder and fuller.

“Oh,” hazel eyes dropped to the floor, fingers playing over the hem of his shirt. “Um, okay.”

“Hey, look!” Mark pointed at the television where the carton had just changed. Instead of Bugs and Elmer, a little yippy, yellow dog was following a sour looking bulldog, bouncing from side to side and talking a mile a minute. “It’s you.” Mark turned mean eyes on Jared.

“Dude, that’s awesome,” David sat up, the same glint in his eye. “What’s the annoying dog’s name?”

Puzzled looks crossed the boys’ faces and Jared nervously transferred his weight from foot to foot.

“Chester,” Sean crowed out, snapping his fingers.

“That’s right,” David smiled, mean look turning down right malicious. “Chester. Chester Padalecki, the pudgy puppy.”

The boys laughed, taunts of the newly christened nickname fueling it further until they were rolling around holding their sides with tears running down their flushed faces. And in true After School Special fashion, Aaron and Jensen caved to the peer pressure and joined in. After all, it was a harmless name, something stupid invented in a moment of silliness, that would more than likely be forgotten by breakfast. As Aaron and Jensen wiped the tears from their eyes they missed Jared zipping his hoodie up with a hurt expression.

Time passed as it was want to do and the name they were certain would be lost to the easily distracted minds of youth crept into everyday use. It withstood the intervening years until Aaron and Jensen referred to Jared by it solely.

Life moved on. There was baseball and football, girlfriends and good buddies, and before Jensen and Aaron knew it there were gowns and Pomp and Circumstance, dorms and keg parties. Jensen was elbow deep in his sophomore year of college, sitting at his desk cursing Biology, his sadistic professor and his loud neighbor in equal measure when his cell phone rang. Jensen huffed in annoyance and answered without ever glancing at the caller ID.

“I have a test tomorrow so somebody better be on fucking fire,” he growled.

There was a moment of hesitation before a vaguely familiar voice asked uncertainly, “Jensen?”

He pulled the phone away and frowned at Jared’s name on the screen. “Chester?”

“Yeah,” Jared sighed, “Um, sorry to bother you with you with your test and all…”

Jensen smiled, sitting back to rub his weary eyes. He hadn’t been home in months and the aching familiarity of Jared apologizing when Jensen was the one that had been rude was so comforting that it washed over him warmly and made him feel every day of his absence. “Don’t worry about it. You looking for Aaron?”

“No,” Jared answered, “I actually needed to talk to you.”

There was something about Jared’s voice, deeper than it had been in childhood, but still so much the same, that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. He swallowed the lump of fear threatening to choke him. “Everything okay?”

“I was wondering if…if you were planning on coming home with Aaron this weekend?” 

It didn’t escape Jensen’s notice that Jared hadn’t answered his question. Ice crystals of panic prickled down Jensen’s spine, a shiver following closely on their heels. “No, I was going to stay here and pack up my things.”

The line was silent for a long pause, so long that Jensen wondered if he’d lost the call. “I really think you should come home.”

Jensen’s heart beat frantically against his ribcage. “Chester?” his voice broke, the plea ringing clear on a cracked syllable.

“Jensen,” Jared sounded older, weary and heartsick, “it’s your mom.”

 

 

Jensen rushed home that weekend to find the flu his mother had caught right before he’d returned to school had actually been cancer. Diane Ackles had made the Padaleckis promise to keep her illness from her son. As the first Ackles to attend college, she was immensely proud of Jensen and refused to have anything ruin his chances of graduating. The Padaleckis reluctantly agreed – nobody who loved Diane could refuse her anything. They lovingly cared for her as her health steadily deteriorated, the fast-moving cancer stealing her a little more every day. It was only when Jensen went into the bathroom to cry that he truly realize the extent of the Padalecki’s love. The drawers that he’d emptied at the end of the summer, were fully stocked with the day-to-day needs of a teenage boy. A quick trip into the guest room brought more tears to his eyes. He made his way to his mother’s room to confirm his suspicions.

Diane smiled fondly and sighed. “I’ve needed more care lately. The doctor suggested a nursing home.”

“You should have told me. I would have come home.” Jensen interrupted.

“I know you would have, Sweetie.” She lifted a kitten-weak hand to cup his cheek, letting it fall when the exertion became too much. “I didn’t want you to leave school.”

“But, you shouldn’t have been alone,” he protested.

“Jensen,” she heaved a sad, tired sigh and the exhaustion of it silenced the young man. “I had family here. I wasn’t alone. Lorelai and Jared saw me looking at nursing home pamphlets and were furious. They refused to let me even entertain the idea, said I needed to be at home with family, not in some cold, unfeeling place. They offered to care for me,” she pursed her lips in amused thought. “Actually, didn’t offer so much as tell me. They’re quite the duo, you know. I didn’t want to impose but they threatened to tell you if I didn’t accept their help. Two days later, Lorelai was on a leave of absence from the school and Jared was moving his things into the guest room.” Diane coughed, a hard, hacking sound that made Jensen’s lungs ache in sympathy, and took a ragged breath. As if he’d been called, Jared came in with a glass of water and a promise of warm tea to come. Diane patted his hand and watched him leave.

“Chester has been living here?” Jensen stared at the door Jared had just exited, trying to wrap his mind around why a sixteen-year-old kid would take on this kind of burden. Tried to imagine himself at that age doing something similar if Lorelai had needed him and didn’t like the knot of dread that settled in his stomach when he wasn’t sure he would have.

“Lorelai is with me during the days, takes me to my appointments and makes sure the house runs, and _Jared_ ,” Diane said pointedly, “stays at night, cooks dinner and is here if I need him.”

Jared came back in, fingers threaded through the handle of a fragrant, steaming mug. He set in on the nightstand and adjusted Diane’s covers. Jensen didn’t miss the way the back of his hand lingered on Diane’s exposed arm, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Jared glanced over at Jensen and his eyes averted instantly when they met Jensen’s. He shuffled from the room, once again not having said a word.

“He’s acting awfully timid,” Jensen mumbled.

“He thinks I’m mad at him. Those people,” she looked out her window at the Padalecki’s house, “have more heart than most and that boy has the biggest one of them all. It nearly killed him to keep this from you.” Diane picked up the mug and took a small sip. Her hands cradled around the mug shook under the weight that Jared had carelessly carried with two fingers. 

“He shouldn’t have,” Jensen turned back to his mother, his helplessness finding an outlet as anger at Jared. Jared should have called him, told him. He had no business keeping this from him.

“I told him not to,” Diane defended. “Every day for months, for _months_ ,” her voice faltered as if the emphasis had drained her. She cleared her throat and continued, “he’s come in here and asked permission to call you and every day I refused to let him. Then yesterday he came in and didn’t ask, just told me he was going to and hoped I would forgive him.”

Jensen didn’t need to ask if his mother had forgiven Jared, he could see by the look in her eyes that she had. Something she’d said niggled at him, though. “What changed?” he blurted out suddenly.

“Changed?” She raised her eyebrows and with the utmost concentration, set the mug carefully back on the nightstand. 

“You said he’s been coming in here for months asking to call me. What changed that made him decide to do it anyway?”

Diane folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. “I got the results of my last scan. It’s metastasized,” she said softly.  

Jensen felt behind him for the chair that sat at her bedside, sinking into the plush cushion numbly. _Metastasized_. “How,” he licked his lips, “how long?”

She turned sad eyes to him and laid her hand over his resting limply on the edge of the mattress. “Such a handsome boy.” The hint of pride was poorly veiled as she smiled.

Jensen felt the tears pool. “How long, Mom?”

“Not long,” she answered with a slight shake of her head. “Couple of weeks, a month if I’m lucky.”

Jared came in not long after her admission and gave Diane her medication, the pain pills lulling her into a narcotically peaceful sleep. Jensen stayed with her as she slept, hand clasped around her frail one, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the pale flesh, tracing the blue veins. Jared found him there long after the room had grown dark and gently guided him to his room. He followed meekly where he was led, exhaustion and grief making him pliant and complicit. Jared removed his outer clothes when he couldn’t find it in himself to do it and tenderly laid him in the bed. The young boy turned to leave and Jensen stayed him with a hand on his wrist.

“She loves you,” he whispered.

Jared smiled and petted a hand over Jensen’s head. “She loves you, too.” 

For the second time in his life, Jensen was struck by how much more mature Jared seemed than his age. The light from the hallway was spilling over Jared’s features and Jensen could plainly see the toll the last few months had taken on him – the dark circles underlining each hazel eye and the stress lines etched into the youthful skin of his face. He wanted to be mad, feel betrayed that Jared had kept such a secret from him, but it was clear Diane was right. Conceding to her wishes had hurt Jared and Jensen couldn’t add more. “Thank you.” It felt so inadequate, but it needed to be said.

Jared looked like he was going to dismiss the gratitude, but nodded his acceptance at the last minute. “Get some sleep, Jensen. I’m just across the hall if you need me.”

 

In the end the doctors had been overly optimistic. Less than a week after he came home, Jensen went into his mother’s room one morning to find she’d apparently gone sometime in the night. He knelt beside her bed, fingers curled in the bedspread hanging down from the mattress, and stared sightlessly. 

His mother was gone…he was now truly alone. 

He startled when a strong arm curled around his waist and warmth pressed against his spine. He leaned back into Jared’s presence, let the younger boy take his weight. Jared pressed his cheek between Jensen’s shoulder blades, the fabric of the t-shirt dampening, and made the calls that Jensen couldn’t. People came in and left in a blur and through it all, Jared sat on the floor behind him and held him. When they came to retrieve Diane, Jared pulled him up and took him to the couch. They sat side-by-side and when the closed bag was wheeled out, Jensen curled his arms around Jared’s waist and buried his face in Jared’s neck. Jared let him cling, rubbing his back soothingly.

They had the funeral on a Wednesday, the day dreary-gray and cold. Diane had outlined most of her wishes so Jensen wouldn’t have to worry about making those decisions and Lorelai and Adam thankfully handled the arrangements.  Aaron and Jared stayed close, not hovering but accessible, stepping in when Jensen was feeling overwhelmed to create a barrier or provide a distraction. 

Once the casket had been lowered, the consolations said and the mourners fed, Jensen sat on the back porch, a bottle of Milwaukee’s finest dangling from his fingers. The back door squeaked just before a line of warmth pressed up against his side. Jared huffed out a breath and watched the steam rise.

Jensen took a swig of his beer. “There was so much I wanted to tell her.”

Jared looked at him. “If it was important, I’m sure she already knew.”

“I’ve been waiting for break to tell her,” he licked his lips and rolled the condensation slick bottle between his hands, “that I’m gay.” He cut his eyes to the side to see Jared’s reaction to the news. It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud, afraid of what people would say, and was surprised to see Jared’s placid expression.

Jared rubbed his hands together to warm them. “Why’d you wait?”

Jensen shrugged. “Chicken, I guess. I wasn’t sure how’d she take it. I didn’t know if she would be okay…with me…like that. Guess I’ll never know now.”

They sat in silence for a while then Jared leaned over and plucked the bottle from Jensen’s hands, taking a deep draw. “If it helps,” Jared burped into his fist and handed the bottle back, “I think she would have told you that it didn’t matter so long as you were happy.” 

Jensen chuckled a humorless laugh, rubbing his sore eyes. “You really think so?”

“Yep.” Jared threaded his fingers together and let them dangle between his spread knees.

“How can you be so sure?”

“It’s what she told me when she caught me making out with Morgan Cicely.” Jared stared up at the darkening sky, eyes taking in the star that were just starting to dot the black.

 “Not who Mom thought you should be making out with?”

“Just not who she expected.”

“Morgan Cicely?” Jensen tried to place the name. He’d never heard Jared talk about seeing anyone and if Jensen knew this girl, it would provide some nice brotherly ribbing.

“You know the Cicelys. They live down the block in that yellow house with the big-mouth bass mailbox,” Jared waved his hand toward the end of the street. “I think Joey was a year behind you in school.”

“Right,” Jensen nodded his head, lifting the bottle to take another swig. It hovered over his lips and he scrunched his face up in confusion when a thought occurred to him. “Wait, Joey had a brother, not a sister.”

Jared raised an eyebrow at him and waited. 

“Oh. _Oh_!” Jensen smiled at Jared, face feeling tight where tears had dried earlier that day. 

“Yeah, so trust me when I say your mother would have just wanted you to be happy.” Jared bumped their shoulders together.

They sat companionably while Jensen drained the last of his beer, Jared taking a few sips every now and then. When all was left was the dredges, Jensen rubbed his face wearily. “God, I’m beat.”

Jared stood up and held out a hand for Jensen. “Go to bed. I’ll finish the clean up and make sure everything is put away.” 

“Leave it. I’ll do it in the morning,” Jensen took the hand and got up. 

“Nah, it’s all right. Mom did most of it so there’s not much left.” Jared smiled, taking the empty beer bottle from Jensen.

“Thanks, man, for,” Jensen shook his head, “for fucking everything.” He knew he could spend the rest of forever trying to repay the Padaleckis, Jared specifically, and it wouldn’t be enough.

“No thanks necessary.” Jared reached over and hugged him, enveloping Jensen in his embrace.

Jensen leaned back, arms still around Jared, and looked at the young man. Jared had shot up the last few years and now stood eye-to-eye with him. Gone was the baby fat that had earned him his nickname, replaced with the long, lean muscles Jensen could feel under his clothes. His jaw was more angular changing him from the boy of their childhood to the man that stood before him. Those bright hazel eyes still glowed with the internal happiness that Jared always seemed to exude and dimples still dented his cheeks with impish charm. While Jensen was busy ignoring Jared, Jared was busy growing up. 

“Jensen?” Jared’s brows furrowed in confusion and the way he said Jensen’s name made it sound like it hadn’t been the first time.

“Um,” Jensen blinked his eyes and forced his arms to let go. He dropped them to his side and stepped back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jared smiled. “Good night, Jensen.”

“Night, Jared.” Jensen trudged up the stairs to his room, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with the sudden knowledge that he thought Jared was gorgeous.

 

Jared became a constant fixture, effortlessly slotting back into Jensen’s life as his second best friend. He, Aaron and Jared spent the entirety of Christmas Break finding what they’d once had, what Aaron and Jensen had stupidly allowed to be lost. When Jensen returned to school a few weeks later, he stayed in contact with Jared refusing to lose what he’d regained. Trips home – made more frequently now that Jensen realized how much life could change if you were gone too long – found The Three Amigos riding again, the three boys inseparable. They e-mailed every day and talked on the phone at least a couple times a week. Jared was back on the basketball team, having left while caring for Diane – just one more thing, he’d sacrificed – and was now their starting forward. Jensen told him about his classes and his and Aaron’s still too loud neighbor. Jared confided his dreams of getting a basketball scholarship to Duke and Jensen talked about the different therapists he was thinking about doing his internship with. 

It seemed some days that Jared had ESP, calling when Jensen was having a particularly shitty day. So two years later when Jensen was just coming in from an exceptionally crappy shift at the coffee shop where he worked and his phone rang, he was certain it was Jared.

“How do you always know? You’ve got me bugged, right?” Jensen couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice, throwing his keys in the dish on the counter.

“Jensen?” The voice was thick with tears, but still unmistakable. 

“Lorelai?” His pulse kicked into high gear. Why was she calling from Jared’s phone?

“Jensen,” she repeated, sniffling, “you and Aaron need to come home.”

“What’s wrong?” He tone was even, deadened, in an attempt to keep some control.

He heard her swallow. “It’s – it’s Jared.”

 


	3. Miss The Sun When It Starts To Snow

Jensen and Aaron were in the car and on the way out of town within the hour. The eighty-two miles between their off-campus apartment and the hospital passed in fits and starts. There was a gas station and a McDonalds, but neither Jensen nor Aaron could tell anybody which came first or where they were. They raced down the hallways, ignoring the nurses scolding them as they passed and dodging elderly volunteers pushing carts of flowers. They found Lorelai and Adam in a waiting room on the third floor, hands clasped together in white knuckled grips and eyes rimmed in red.

A drunk driver, a t-bone collision. Jared wasn’t even supposed to be out. His boyfriend had called from a party, drunk, and asked Jared to come pick him up. Jared’d promised his parents he’d be careful on the way out the door, but it wasn’t him they needed to be worried about. He’d made it half-way to the party when a drunk driver ran a red light, Jared’s door taking the brunt of the hit. Jared was in surgery, had been for the last three hours, and there hadn’t been any word. Aaron and Jensen flanked the Padalecki parents and they all stared at the torturously slow tick of a watched clock.

An hour later, a tall man dressed in drab blue scrubs came into the room, pulling a surgical cap from his head. They all stood when he called Jared’s name and held their breath as the grim looking man came over. Through the buzzing in his ears, Jensen caught the gist of the man’s words… _severe trauma to the left kidney…removed…injury to the spinal cord…touch and go for a while…critical but stable…fighter_. Jensen tuned out the man’s sympathetic tone, mind reeling in the wake of learning the extent of Jared’s injuries. The words swirled around in his head, one phrase coming to the forefront over and over.

_Injury to the spinal cord_

“Will he be able to walk?” It burst out of Jensen without conscious thought and from the looks on the faces of Jared’s family, they hadn’t thought that far ahead.

The doctor, Jensen couldn’t be bothered with his name at the moment, licked his lips, sighed, and Jensen’s stomach flipped. “Like I said, we won’t know anything for sure until Jared wakes up.”

“Best guess?” Jensen could see the answer in the man’s eye, but his heart refused to believe it until the words were actually said out loud.

“The damage to the spinal cord was significant. The way things are now, I would say the chances of Jared walking are low.” Seeing their devastated expressions, the doctor quickly added. “However, I’ve seen patients defy all odds and do some miraculous things.”

Jensen nodded his head, vaguely heard Adam thank the doctor. They stood quietly in the empty waiting room, each lost in their own thoughts. Jared was eighteen years old and was never going to walk again. Jensen swallowed hard, Jared’s voice whispering dreams of playing basketball for Duke ringing in his head. It was gone; Jared’s dream was gone in an instant thanks to alcohol and stupidity.

“Someone,” Aaron cleared his throat, “someone should call Chad. He’ll want to know.”

Slowly, Lorelai pulled Jared’s phone from her purse, the case broken and the screen cracked in one corner. She stared at it like she’d never seen it before.

“I’ll do it,” Jensen held out his hand, nodding encouragingly when Lorelai looked up at him lost. Woodenly, she handed over the small device and Jensen made a gesture with his hand to let them know he was going outside.

Jensen walked numbly out the front doors and sat on a bench in the Serenity Garden. It was a place the hospital’s Ladies Auxiliary had commissioned to give patients and their family somewhere to visit outside the antiseptic walls. He was alone among the frost-deadened plants, potted poinsettias dotted along the pathways and naked, gnarled trees hung with fairy lights doing their best to create a festive air in the winter dreary space. He took a few deep breaths, willing himself to find the calm he knew he’d need to get through this conversation. He’d never done this before; however, always being on the receiving end of bad news had given him enough experience to know what to say. He thought of Jared at sixteen calling to tell him that his mother was dying and had to swallow down the emotions he’d just barely calmed.

He pushed the button to bring up the lock screen, thumb rubbing over the picture of him, Jared and Aaron at Thanksgiving. Sniffling, he swiped the lock off and without hesitation tapped 4119 on the number pad without ever being told Jared’s passcode. It was the same as his, the same as Aaron’s – their birthdays in chronological order: Aaron September **4** th, Jensen March **1** st, Jared July **19** th. As he scrolled through the Contacts, he smiled at the sheer number, knowing that Jared was well-liked. He stopped at Chad’s name and hit SEND.

“Jay-bird! I thought we were going to the mall today? I gotta find something for Emily or she’ll have my balls for Christmas,” Chad started without preamble.

“Chad, it’s…it’s Jensen.”

“Ackles?” They’d met on a few occasions, Jared insistent that his oldest friends get along with his new one, but they were by no means close. “What’s going on? Where’s Jared?”

Jensen licked his lips and slowly, shakily recounted the events that had brought him home early from college. To his credit, Chad didn’t interrupt which Jensen was grateful for, not sure he could start again if he stopped, but Jensen could hear Chad’s breathing coming faster and wetter. He went silent after telling Jared’s prognosis to give Chad a moment to process everything that Jensen himself was still reeling from.

“What, uh,” Chad paused to gather himself, “what was Jared doing out last night anyway? He said he was going to stay in and have a movie night with his folks.”

“He, um,” Jensen scrubbed a hand down his face, “he went to pick up his boyfriend. I guess the guy was drunk at some party and called him for a ride home.”

“Zach,” Chad hissed, rustling and door slamming in the background. “That sorry motherfucker.”

“Zach,” Jensen repeated. “He’s a freshman at the community college, right?” Jared had mentioned him in passing over the last few months and Jensen knew they’d gone out a couple of times, but he hadn’t realized that Zach had been promoted to boyfriend status.

“He’s a worthless piece of shit,” Chad corrected before mumbling absently. “Where the fuck did I leave my keys? Aha!” There was a jangling of metal and Chad continued with the original subject as if there hadn’t been an interruption. “I tried to tell him that Zach was bad news, but you know how Jared just has to see the good in everyone.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed, having happily benefitted from that kind heart when Jared forgave him for the years of distance. “Wait, Zach’s a freshman. What’s he doing drunk at a party?”

There was silence on the other end of the line and Jensen could mentally see Chad giving him a ‘you gotta be shitting me’ look. Okay, so it was a dumb question. Most of Jensen’s Freshman Fifteen had less to do with his new diet of Ramen and pizza and more with cheap beer at frat parties. He was distraught, give him a break.

“Yeah,” Chad said slowly, “gonna save you some embarrassment and pretend you didn’t ask that.” Jensen heard an engine start. “I’m on my way. Should be there in fifteen minutes tops.”

“Okay. And Chad? Drive careful.”

“You know it.”

Jensen ended the call and tilted his head back to relieve the strain on the tense muscles of his neck. His eyes traced the lighted strands in the tree branches, following them from bough to bough until they wound out of sight. He startled when the phone in his hand rang, looking down to see a picture of a smiling dark-haired boy with ice blue eyes and the name ZACH on the display.

Realizing that the boy must be worried since no one had called him and Jared didn’t show up last night, Jensen answered the call. Before he could utter a greeting, he was cut off.

“What the fuck, Jared? You are the most useless waste of space I have ever met. Do you realize I had to _walk_ home last night? You owe me a new pair of boots and one epic fucking blow job. Might even make you do that thing you hate.”

Jensen was caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of snarling – didn’t people say ‘hello’ anymore? He was so stunned that he didn’t process much of what was being said. It took a minute for the words to settle in his mind and make sense. Wait a minute - _make you do that thing you hate_?!

“Say something!”

Jensen sneered. Oh, he was going to say something all right. “You listen to me, asshole. You ever come near Jared again, talk to him, even think about him, I will rip your fucking arms off and beat you to death with them.” His voice was low and murderous, barely contained rage dripping from each word.

“Who is this?”

“Somebody you better hope you never meet.”

“Where’s Jared?”

“None of your business. Jared isn’t your concern anymore.” Jensen growled.

“I’m his boyfriend. I’m pretty sure that makes him my business.” Zach’s voice deepened as he tried to infuse a vein of intimidation into his tone.

“Not anymore, you aren’t.” Jensen pressed the END button, leg jostling from built up excess energy.

He turned the phone over in his hands, thumb rubbing over the edge like a modern age worry stone. Jensen closed his eyes and took a calming breath, inhaling slowly through his nose and exhaling controllably through his mouth. He set Jared’s phone on his thigh and pressed his fingers into his eyes, the frosty bite of his fingertips soothing against the heated skin of his eyelids. His emotions were all over the place – worry, fear and love for Jared coupling with anger at this unknown Zach – making Jensen feel out of control and reckless. The need for action thrummed through his veins, the desire to bleed some of the overwhelming feelings bordering on compulsion. He skin itched to seek this Zach out, put his hands on him, make him hurt until he felt as bad as Jensen did right now.

“Jensen?”

He lifted his head and squinted up at the outline of a man standing next to him. Blinking the blur from his vision, the person came into focus. “Sean?”

“Yeah! I thought that was you,” Sean beamed down at him, “What are you doing here? Thought you and Aaron were away living the college life.”

“Um, yeah,” Jensen answered slowly, mind taking a minute to change tracks, “we are. Aaron’s brother was in an accident so we came back a little early.” Standing, he extended his hand, pulling Sean into a hug when the man clasped it. “How have you been?”

“Good,” Sean thumped him on the back. “Chester was in an accident? Is he hurt bad?”

Pulling back from the hug, Jensen rubbed at his face. “Pretty bad.” Jensen’s nostrils flared as he tried to keep his emotions reigned in. He knew he wouldn’t be able to expound on the extent of Jared’s injuries, wouldn’t feel right telling anyone anyway even if he could, and decided to change the subject. “What, um, what brings you here?”

“My sister-in-law just had a baby. I was headed up to see the little rugrat.” Sean gave him an up-and-down look, his face clearly appreciable. “Looks like collegiate life agrees with you.”

Jensen’s hand went to the back of his neck. “Can’t complain.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining either,” Sean mumbled low enough that Jensen wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear.

Jensen’s face flushed. “Yeah, well I should get back.” He tucked Jared’s cell into his back pocket. “It was nice seeing you again. We should catch up sometime.” He glanced down at his watch, trying to figure out how long he’d been gone.

“Hey!” Sean snagged his arm. “Give me your number and I’ll text you mine. Maybe we can meet up for coffee or something.”

Jensen pulled his mind from wondering where the twenty minutes had gone and automatically rattled off his phone number. “I really should go. I want to be there when Chester comes out of Recovery.”

“Of course, man,” Sean smiled again. “Go see to the puppy. I’ll text you and we can set something up.”

“Great.” Jensen nodded, mind already back in the waiting room, and started back down the walkway to the front of the hospital.

He made his way back to the waiting room and found Aaron pacing back and forth nervously. The man looked up when he entered, a frustratingly relieved look on his face. “Everything okay? You were gone for a while.”

“Sorry. Ran into Sean downstairs and got hemmed up for a minute. Where’s your folks?”

“With Jared. He was just moved into an ICU room. They’re only letting us go in a few at a time.” Aaron bit the cuticle around his thumbnail, a nervous gesture Jensen had only seen when Aaron was fretting over a final or a girl.

Jensen narrowed his eyes. “Did something happen while I was downstairs?”

Aaron shook his head irritably, swiping his thumb against the shoulder of his shirt to dry the damp flesh. “No, not really. The trauma surgeon came out, told us basically the same thing that other guy did except he wasn’t quite so optimistic about Jared’s chances of walking again.” He huffed out a breath and sank down into one of the chairs, linking his fingers together in his lap. Aaron licked his lips and swallowed, eyes trained on his entwined fingers. He used his thumbnail to pick at the ragged skin on the one he’d been nibbling, rolling the skin back, and Jensen could see a blood welling in the torn flesh. “He said,” Aaron cleared his throat, “he said they put Jared in a medical coma and that we should, uh…”

Jensen took the seat beside his friend, placing his hand over Aaron’s fidgeting ones as he felt his heart pound wildly. “We should what?” He prompted when it appeared Aaron couldn’t continue.

Aaron lifted his gaze to the ceiling, talking to the acoustic tiles as if it made it easier to tell them. “That we should use the time to accept that Jared is paralyzed so when he wakes up we can be there for him.” He blew out a breath and leaned his head back against the wall behind him.

Jensen bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. “Didn’t sugar coat it, did he?”

Aaron shook his head, his hair scratching against the drywall. “He said he didn’t want to give us false hope.”

They sat in silence for a little while, people milling through the hall outside the room and doctors being paged over the intercom creating an underlying background noise to their quiet introspection. Jensen shifted in his seat and looked over to his friend. Aaron looked tired and wan, features tense with worry and eyes glazed with fear. Jensen was barely holding it together; he couldn’t imagine how Aaron hadn’t fallen apart. “How are you holding up?”

“Better than Jared,” came the retort, tears pooling along the other man’s lower lids. “I can at least still stand up to pee.”

Jensen blanched. “Aaron, I…”

Aaron shook off his apology. “It’s okay. I’m just…” He shrugged his shoulders, face helpless. “I just don’t know what we’re going to do.”

“We’ll get through it,” Jensen answered simply.

“Jared is going to need a lot of care…wheelchairs and physical therapy and ramps.” Aaron’s breathing sped up, his anxiety growing. “Special cars for driving and all the bedrooms at Mom’s are on the second floor…where is he going to sleep? Are the doorways even wide enough for a wheelchair?”

“Aaron, I know,” Jensen forced as much sincerity in his voice as he could, clasping a calming hand around the back of his friend’s neck. He forced the other man to meet his gaze and repeated. “We’ll get through it. I promise, Jared will get everything he needs.”

“How…” Aaron trailed off when Lorelai and Adam came back into the room.

Adam hugged his wife to his side with an arm around her shoulders as Lorelai dabbed at her nose and eyes with a tissue. Aaron jumped up, quickly followed by Jensen.

“Mom?”

“Lorelai?”

Jensen knew they both sounded lost, could hear it in their voices. It made them sound like the little boys they hadn’t been for many years.

Lorelai turned to them and held out her arms, hugging her son, innately understanding his need for comfort. Jensen had half a second to feel left out before he was tugged into her warm embrace. She held them tight, just as she had when they’d first arrived. With a wet sniffle, she finally pulled back and her lips lifted into a tremulous smile. She cupped their faces, thumbs brushing across their cheekbones, and looked at them with a fond, wistful expression. “Visiting hours are almost over. You should go and see Jared. I’m sure he’d like to know you came to see him.” Lorelai tilted her head slightly to the side and sucked her lips in her mouth, face twitching as she tried to master her emotions.

Adam’s strong arm wound around his wife’s shoulders and pulled her into his chest. “He’s in room five. It’s, uh, the third one on the left.”

Aaron brushed a hand down his mother’s back and nodded, heading down the hallway. Jensen squeezed Adam’s bicep and followed after him, steps faltering when he looked back. The elder Padaleckis were entwined around each other, Adam’s arms encircling Lorelai, his cheek resting against the crown of her head as she clutched the fabric of his shirt and sobbed a mother’s pain into the cotton. He’d seen them through the death of both of Adam’s parents and Lorelai’s father, even Jensen’s own mother, watched them grieve and cope and move on, but this was different. Before had been about mourning the end of a life, heartbreak over the loss of a beloved part of their past. This? This was anguish over the beginning of a life changed forever, misery over the hardships that lie in its future. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and counted closed doors until he stood outside Jared’s room.

Aaron was at the side of Jared’s bed, blocking all but Jared’s legs from Jensen’s view. His shaking hand hovered over Jared’s body, as if afraid to touch, and Jensen could hear him muttering “Oh, God. Chester. Oh, God.”

Jensen moved forward woodenly, needing visual proof that Jared was alive for himself, but at the same time, afraid of what he’d see. Step-by-step, Jared was revealed slowly; abdomen, torso, shoulders and finally his face. Plastic protruded from his mouth, a connecting line hooked to a machine that hissed and whirred, his chest rising and falling in time with the noise. There was a cut across the bridge of his nose, but otherwise the portion of Jared’s face he could see was smooth and unmarred. Jensen rounded the end of the bed, letting Aaron’s soothing words to his brother wash over him. His breath hitched. Now that he could see Jared from the front it was obvious that the left side of his body had taken the brunt of the accident. That side of his face and neck were marked with dozens of small cuts and nicks and nearly the entire length of his left forearm was covered in a gauzy bandage, the back of his hand and knuckles peppered in deep, burgundy signs of clotting. _Glass_ …Jensen thought, tracing lightly over the chaotic spattering along Jared’s hand and cringing slightly. _Lingchi_. The odd word floated to the forefront of his mind, learned long ago for a paper in an Eastern Civilizations class. _Death by a thousand cuts_.

He trailed his fingers gently up the inside of Jared’s forearm, sensitive pads ghosting over the cotton wrappings. Unconsciously, his mind supplied the name of each bone and muscle as he moved over it. _Ulna, radius, extensor digitorum, extensor capri ulnaris, extensor capri radialis brevis, extensor capri radialis longus, brachioradialis_. It was something born out of necessity to help him memorize the multitude of terms in his A  & P class. He’d spent every spare moment that semester reciting the names of different muscles groups, the terms even creeping into his dreams, but it didn’t help…they refused to stick. It had been a low point in Jensen’s academic life, almost enough to deter him from further pursuing a career in physical therapy.

In the end it was Jared that had found the solution…contact. Jensen was a tactile learner and being able to touch the muscles helped him retain their names. Jared was his most patient model and Jensen’s A in that class was due in large part to him. Jared would sit on the couch for hours with Jensen’s textbook open in his lap while a blindfolded Jensen ran his hands over Jared’s body – arms, legs, torso, back – and listed the anatomy of that part. Somewhere along the way it had turned into a coping mechanism when his mind felt overwhelmed and Jensen often caught himself during times of stress running his fingers over his arm or leg, mindlessly recounting the parts he encountered.

The back of his hand could just make out the edges of the bulky dressing under the pale blue gown. Dressings that covered the incision where they’d cut Jared open, removed parts of him meant to come in pairs. His hand skirted under the sleeve of Jared’s hospital gown, warm, vibrant skin under his arm, thrumming pulse a staccato rhythm under his fingers.

_He’s fine. He’s okay. Jared’s strong…stronger than anyone I know._

His grip tightened.

“Sirs?”

Jensen forced his eyes from Jared’s wounded, slack face to a woman in violet scrubs standing in the doorway.

“Visiting hours are over.” She looked sheepish, apologetic, sympathetic gaze going back and forth between the two grieving men.

Jensen cleared his throat, thumb running a soothing arc over the swell of Jared’s relaxed bicep. Aaron looked like the thought of leaving physically pained him. “Can we have a few more minutes?”

She gave them a considering look, lips pressed into a thin line. After a quick glance back out into the hallway, she fixed her gaze on Jared, eyes softening. “Five minutes,” she murmured, ducking out of the door.

“Thanks,” Aaron whispered, hand surrounding Jared’s on the bed. His eyes glistened in the soft, ambient light, the beginnings of tears glassing over the bright blue. “God, Jen…” He sighed.

“I know.”

They sat in silence, each clinging to a piece of the dormant man like a lifeline, their five minutes measured in the whirring of the ventilator and the lines on the monitor. The nurse reappeared, gently but firmly coaxing them from the room with promises to take excellent care of the sleeping young man and guiding them back to the waiting room.

She motioned toward the room where Lorelai and Adam awaited their return with a newly arrived Chad and began to turn away.

“Thank you,” Jensen said hurriedly before she could get too far. “For giving us a few more minutes,” he clarified at her curiously arched eyebrows. He cast a glance at a despondent Aaron. “It means a lot to us. I appreciate it.”

“Jared means a lot to _us_ ,” she answered in the same serious tone.

Jensen could feel his forehead crease in confusion, and could see a similar expression on Aaron’s face.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” She asked quietly.

Jensen took her in slowly, from her golden blonde ponytail to her dark purple Crocs, and shook his head, swallowing.

“I’m Catelyn Myers. My grandfather lives down the road from you,” She supplied.

When Jensen shook his head again, still not placing her or her grandfather, she continued, “He owns the old blue two-story on the corner. When you were both in high school, you used to cut through his backyard to avoid being late for curfew.”

Not understanding what this had to do with anything, Jensen chuckled a humorless laugh. “That little shortcut saved our bacon more times than I care to admit.”

“And destroyed my grandfather’s flower beds more times than I care to mention. By your senior year he was fit to be tied. He worked himself up a good head of steam and marched down the road to tell your parents what you’d been doing.”

Jensen’s rubbed the back of his neck. “I – I didn’t know that. Mom, the Padaleckis…they never said anything.” That seemed odd in and of itself – their parents overlooking the fact that they were cutting curfew so close, but to completely dismiss the careless destruction of property… He looked over to Aaron, wondering if he knew about this, but Aaron’s vacant stare was focused entirely on the closed door to his brother’s room.

“That’s because he ran into Jared before he made it to either of your houses. Jared convinced him to not tell your parents by promising to move the flower beds where you wouldn’t step on them.” She smiled fondly and huffed a soft laugh. “Took him three days.”

“Why…” Jensen couldn’t understand why Jared would do that for them. That was during the time when he and Aaron did their level best to ignore Jared at every turn.

“He said he knew that you’d get in trouble and that your parents would ground you. It was right before Prom and he didn’t want you to miss it.” She gave Jensen a heavy look as if she knew what he’d been thinking. “You know, he’s come by every spring since and planted Granddad’s new flowers.”

At Jensen’s surprised face, she added, “And in December he hangs Christmas lights for the elderly in the neighborhood.”

“I didn’t know he did any of that.” Jensen was impressed and if he was honest a little jealous. Over the past two years, he and Jared had shared practically everything and yet it seemed there was this whole part of the young man he didn’t know.

“Me either,” Aaron muttered distractedly. His eyes never wavered from the door to room number five, but he’d apparently been listening to the conversation.

“Jared does little things like that for a lot of people and sometimes it’s the little things that can mean the world. I think you’ll find that most of us will be more than willing to bend the rules for him.” She stepped out of the way of a custodian pushing a ladened cleaning cart past them. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make my rounds. I promise to call if Jared’s condition changes, but I don’t see Dr. Sims bringing him out of the coma for a couple of days. I suggest you get some rest.” She nodded slightly to them then made her way down the hallway.

Jensen watched the swish of her receding ponytail, thinking about everything she’d told him. Blinking, he shook his head and turned his attention to Aaron, who remained practically catatonic.

“Aaron? You alright?” He cupped a hand under his friend’s elbow. Aaron’s head moved slowly toward him and the momentary flash of relief Jensen felt at eliciting even that small of a response melted away at the wide-eyed helplessness in Aaron’s eyes. Jensen was speechless at the reflection of his own feelings on Aaron’s face. The words of comfort that he should say, and that he desperately needed to hear, stuck in his throat so he did the only thing he could – he drug his lifetime friend into a crushing hug. Giving solace through contact and receiving it in return when Aaron’s strong arms encircled him in a similarly tight embrace.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Jensen whispered when he found his voice again. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

_God, he hoped he wasn’t lying._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Let Her Go" by Passenger.


	4. I Wanna Save that Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen deals with the days following Jared's accident and an unwanted visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my love to my beautiful and oh-so-patient beta deansdirtybb and to my wonderful co-author Imogen_lily. They are the true men behind the curtain..I'm just the fancy lightshow.

Jensen scrubbed a hand over his face in a vain attempt to erase the bone deep weariness from his mind. Bristly stubble rasped against his palm with each pass reminding him that it had been a while since his last shave. Three days? He glanced at the large window that monopolized the outer wall of Jared’s room, his gauge for the passing of time while he sat watch over the comatose man. There was a clock on the wall behind him, but turning to check it required Jensen to take his eyes off of Jared and that wasn’t happening. The fledgling sunlight of another day dawning weakly pressed against the closed blinds, jaundiced rays slipping in around the edges. So four days then. Four days since Jared’s accident. Four days since Lorelai’s phone call. Four days since Jensen’s life was turned upside down. God, it felt like a lifetime.

Lorelai insisted that he and Aaron return to school and finish the last final of their respective undergraduate careers. She’d pulled the guilt card, reminding them how proud Jared was of their accomplishments and how crushed he’d be to know that he was the reason they didn’t graduate as planned. Under protest, they made the return journey back to campus less than twenty-four hours after rushing away.

He sat silently in the lecture hall next to Aaron, pre-test apprehension of sixty other students surrounding them as the exams were handed out. Jensen longed for the simplicity of their anxiety, the inconsequentiality of it. He answered the questions on auto-pilot, only able to concentrate for a moment before his thoughts drifted to a hospital room too far away. Quick glances confirmed that Aaron wasn’t in any better shape. In a trance, Jensen filled in the last bubble and shuffled his way to the front, hand briefly resting against the back of Aaron’s neck as he passed.

The professor looked up in concern when Jensen placed his exam on the desk, mouth opening to voice his worries, but Jensen silenced him with a slight shake of his head. Professor Richards, his mentor, had stopped him in the hall earlier to discuss his upcoming internship and was shocked at Jensen’s ragged appearance and exhausted air. Patting Aaron on the back as the man continued on to their classroom, Jensen had taken a weary breath and conveyed the story of Jared’s accident. Richards’ face had fallen at the news, his heart aching.

He’d met Jared at the local coffee shop during one of the younger man’s many visits to see Jensen and Aaron and, like so many others, had been drawn to Jared’s vibrant personality and keen intelligence. A mutual love of basketball hadn’t hurt the budding friendship and if Richards knew that Jared was up for the weekend, he often made it a point to stop by so they could debate the merits of different defenses and their respective teams’ chances in upcoming games. During March Madness the two were highly competitive, vying one’s playoff bracket against the other’s, taunts and gloats being flung at the speed of electronic mail.

Receiving a nod from Richards, Jensen wandered into the hallway to wait for Aaron to finish. He leaned against the wall, shoving hands that trembled from too much caffeine and too little sleep deep in his pockets, and let his weary head thump back against the cinderblocks. He knew that he’d just earned the poorest grade of his collegiate career, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. It definitely wasn’t his best effort but was the best he had to offer at this point in time – half his attention on what was being asked, the other half on how many more questions he had before he could return to the hospital.

His eyes slipped closed as he tried to find a moment of peace among the violent whirl of his jumbled thoughts. A loud squeak signaled the classroom door opening and Jensen couldn’t help the way one side of his mouth twitched faintly at the familiarity of the sound. Richards had refused to let maintenance oil the hinge, reveling in the embarrassment of tardy students when the noise heralded their arrival, sometimes even stopping mid-lecture to show the late-comer to their seat. Jensen took a deep breath before lifting his tired lids. Aaron stumbled through the doorway with Joseph trailing closely behind. Joseph, along with this roommate Ryan, had been their neighbor in the dorms since freshman year and Jensen had nearly bowled them over yesterday in his haste to find Aaron and get home. They’d called after him, voices pitched in worry, but Jensen blew them off with a promise to explain later. He could see from Joseph’s determined face that ‘later’ had arrived.

Their friend looked them both over and immediately went to Jensen’s side, apparently figuring that he was the one most likely to give him some semblance of information. Jensen rubbed his dry eyes and jerked his head in the direction of their dorm. As the three walked across the quad, Jensen relayed the story for the second time that day, the chilled December air ghosting the words in front of him, water vapor lending weight and tangibility to the seriousness of the subject. By the time they reached their door, Ryan had joined them, paling as the news was recapped.

Although they wanted nothing more than to leave that minute, Jensen and Aaron needed to finish packing their belongings, loading boxes with four years of life as they said a hasty good-bye to the hallowed walls they’d called home during that time. The amount left to do nearly overwhelmed Jensen when he pushed the door open. Boxes were scattered around the floor, each in a varying stage of completion, the closets and drawers half-emptied and mocking them. Jensen sucked in his bottom lip and saw the muscle in Aaron’s jaw tick as he ground his teeth, both men trying to master the impulse to cry in frustration.

Without comment, Joseph bustled past them and snagged duffel bags from the top shelf of the closet. Ryan pushed by, catching the duffel tossed to him, and went to Aaron’s dresser, unceremoniously shoving clothes into the canvas depths as his roommate did the same at Jensen’s dresser.

“What,” Jensen cleared his throat, “What are you doing?”

“Getting y’all back to Jared,” Ryan answered simply.

“We appreciate it, but we gotta pack all this shit up.” Aaron’s voice was exhausted and he reached up to knead the tense muscles in the back of his neck.

“Yes,” Joseph agreed, flinging socks over his shoulder in the direction of the open duffel. “ _We_ have to pack this up. _You_ have to get back to Jared.”

“But…” Aaron looked lost.

“No, buts,” Ryan interrupted, fighting to close the zipper on the overstuffed bag. “We have nowhere to be and you do. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let Jared wake up and not see you both standing there waiting on him.”

“Write down the address and we’ll drop your stuff off in a few days.” Joseph picked up the conversation, thrusting a pad of scratch paper into Aaron’s surprised hands.

“Guys, that’s real nice of you, but we can’t ask you to do that.” Jensen held his hands up in mock defense when Joseph tried to hand him his bag.

“You’re not asking, we’re offering,” Joseph stepped in and pressed Jensen’s bag gently but firmly into the man’s chest, his eyes and tone sincere. “Getting you back there as soon as possible is our way of helping Jay. Please let us do this.”

The casually used nickname reminded Jensen that Richards wasn’t the only one that Jared had wooed over the years. What started one night as a boredom-induced Call of Duty marathon during one of Jared’s monthly visits, jibes and insults volleying between the five of them into the wee hours of the morning, turned into a standing arrangement. The first Saturday of every month for two years straight, party invitations were declined and dates were pushed off so the four college boys could sprawl across the bean bag covered floor, gorge themselves on pizza and play a video game with a teenager four years their junior. To some it might have appeared lame, but, more often than not, it was the best time they had all month and they never missed it. Jensen stood stunned for a second, wondering how he completely missed the way Jared was woven into every fabric of his life, a bright thread intertwined in such a way it enhanced each pattern by its mere presence without being intrusive. His breath stopped short. What would he do if Jared didn’t make it? That thread absent from the rest of the cloth, leaving the remainder dull in comparison.

Jensen took the bag, clutched it tight to his chest where those lingering thoughts ached and throbbed, and nodded. “Thanks. I just…thanks.”

“No problem,” Ryan brushed off the gratitude effortlessly, taking the pad from Aaron to make sure he could read the man’s chicken scratched writing. “Just know, any skin mags we find, we’re keeping.”

A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of Aaron’s lips, the first trace of one in over a day, and Jensen was thankful for Ryan’s attempt at humor.

“Unless they’re Aaron’s,” Joseph cut in, “Cuz you know, _girls_.” He shuddered dramatically, pulling a disgusted face.

Despite himself and the situation, Jensen laughed out loud at his friend’s theatrics, happy to see Aaron join in. He couldn’t help but wonder when would be the next time he’d hear or make that sound.

*****

It was with the kindness of friends that they left school much faster than expected and returned to Jared’s small ICU room. Catelyn’s words proved true as Adam, Lorelai, Jensen, Aaron and Chad took turns watching over the sleeping man and waiting for the doctor to wake him, nurses turning blind eyes to the family members sitting vigil at all times of the night and day against hospital policy. Jensen claimed the seat on Jared’s left as his, nobody contesting the validity of his right as everyone seemed to unconsciously gravitate to Jared’s undamaged right side.

Jensen felt that if Jared had to suffer through the injuries, the least Jensen could do was look at them, inundate himself with the sight of them - make himself immune, so when Jared woke up he would never see any sign of uneasiness on Jensen’s face because of them. He studied each nick and cut on Jared’s face and neck, memorized them, wondered if they would leave scars. His eyes traced the over and under of the gauze wrapped around Jared’s arm, followed the direction of the rolls from elbow to wrist. His gaze flowed over the bulky square impression underneath the generic hospital gown where padding and more gauze kept stitches clean and germs out. He forced the knowledge of those hurts on himself until he was practically numb, knowing that it was the one he couldn’t see that was likely to destroy him in the end. Jared’s legs, lying innocuous and limp under the pale blue blanket, the unknown aspect of Jared’s prognosis was the key to the undoing of Jensen’s careful preparations. No matter how much he tried to desensitize himself to it, the idea that Jared might be paralyzed continued to shake him to his foundation and he hoped it always would. The best he could hope for on that front was to put on a brave face for Jared’s sake.

The second day of Jared’s coma, Jensen and Aaron left Adam and Lorelai at the hospital to meet the insurance adjuster at Nate’s Salvage. Jensen had been there when the police came around the night of the accident to talk to Jared’s parents. They’d related eye witness accounts and detailed the collision, including a fairly graphic description of the damage to Jared’s car, but none of it prepared Jensen for staring at the visual confirmation that Jared could have died. It was one of those sights that people’s minds shied away from, made them cringe and turn their heads when they passed it on the side of the road or it passed them on the back of a tow truck, unable to comprehend a way someone had survived the destruction. Jared’s beloved four door coupe, bought with money earned by bagging groceries at the local supermarket over the summer, was almost unrecognizable. Hardened steel, melted and reprocessed and refined, until it was one of the strongest metals on Earth lay twisted and contorted until it resembled an aluminum can crushed under a heel.

Jensen swallowed and glanced at Aaron beside him, frozen, pale and wide-eyed. He staggered forward on shaky knees until he came up beside a middle-aged man in a polo shirt, the insurance company logo stitched on the left breast. The man’s brows were creased and he was scribbling furiously on a paper covered clipboard, lips moving in agitation.

After introductions, the man explained the claims process, that he’d received the police report and since Jared was not shown as at fault they’d be petitioning the other driver’s insurance, and how the car was being marked as a total loss and on and on. Jensen nodded, agreeing dumbly, as he looked over the wreckage. The roof had been cut free from the supporting posts and peeled back like the lid of a sardine can affording Jensen an unobstructed view of the remains. The left front and rear doors were completely caved in, the interior portion now half-way over the driver’s side seat.

He could see where the rescue workers had to force the door open to get to Jared, large dents and gouges where axes and halligans and spreaders had been used to pry the injured teen from the car. The driver seat was loose from the frame and compressed against the center console, the steering wheel shifted toward midline but intact – the airbag hidden within not triggered by the side impact collision. He craned his neck and peered further inside, morbid curiosity taking hold. The interior was splattered in red – a Pollock for the Detroit crowd – and a large crimson stain was soaked into the passenger seat. It took a moment for Jensen to realize it was blood. Jared’s blood. His stomach churned and he swallowed against the bile threatening to rise up.

“Do you know who hit him?” Jensen asked hoarsely. It was the only point that the police had been sketchy on, artfully dodging the question of who was responsible for Jared’s condition by stating that they were conducting interviews as part of their investigation and they couldn’t reveal that information until they had all the facts. Jensen had thought it was odd at the time, but his brain was overwrought and as soon as the thought to ask on it further entered his mind, it slipped right out again. Seeing this though, seeing the evidence that Jared was almost taken from them so violently, Jensen needed to know, needed someone to lay blame on.

Polo shirt guy – Jensen couldn’t for the life of him remember the dude’s name – flipped pages, checking a form a couple of sheets from the top. “Says here on the police report it was a….” He squinted at the small print, “Mr. Duffy Henderson.”

“Duffy Henderson,” Jensen repeated, shocked. “Duffy Henderson hit Ch-Jared?” Jensen knew Duffy, he and Aaron had gone to school with him. He was a privileged kid. His father was a senator and his mother was a debutante; they used money to buy their son’s affections instead of spending time with him. He was an arrogant prick that no one ever expected to amount to much, Daddy’s money getting him what he wanted and keeping him out of trouble.

The guy nodded and clicked his pen shut, tucking it between two buttons on his shirt. “That’s what the report says. It’s a miracle the kid lived to walk away.” He whistled, scanning the car, as if they weren’t discussing someone close to Jensen, like they were talking about one of the other anonymous scraps in the junkyard.

“He’s alive but he’ll never walk again,” Jensen answered baldly, his heart fluttering at saying those words out loud, but tempered by his anger at the man’s lack of true concern. Jensen was suddenly very glad that Adam and Lorelai hadn’t come.

“Oh,” the man stammered, “I’m…” He looked out of his element then recovered. “I’m very sorry to hear that. I’ll get this processed right away. You should be hearing from us by next week at the latest.” He hesitated for a minute. “Good luck.”

Jensen gave a curt nod and watched the man walk away, disappearing in the stacks of other people’s misery. He took one last look at the ruined remains of Jared’s car and turned his back to it, gathering Aaron so they could return to the hospital.

It only took some gentle urging to convince Adam and Lorelai to go home. The couple had been at their son’s bedside practically non-stop and they needed to rest. Jared’s recovery was going to be a lengthy process and if everyone wanted to be there to support him through the long-haul then they needed to take care of themselves. With tender kisses to face and hands, mother and father grudgingly left Jared in Jensen and Aaron’s capable hands.

They sat in silence and Jensen was trying to think of the best way to tell Aaron about Duffy, but before he figured it out a man carrying an expensive briefcase and wearing an even more expensive suit cleared his throat from the open door and knocked lightly on the jamb. In unison, both men turned toward the newcomer making him titter nervously under the weight of their combined stare.

“Yes, um,” he coughed softly into his fist then regained his composure. “Are you the family of Mr. Padaleski?”

“Padalecki,” Jensen corrected as Aaron nodded mutely, eyes narrowed in distrust. Nobody but family and friends were supposed to be back here. The guy must have slipped through before the door could close behind someone else. Sneaky bastard.

The man appeared flustered for a moment before hiding again behind his professional mask. “Padalecki, of course. My mistake.” He smiled plastically. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Charles Whitley and I work for Hudson, Roman and McMillan.” He entered the room extended hand first, approaching Aaron.

Receiving no response, he shifted to Jensen, proffered hand stretched out over Jared’s unconscious form. Jensen’s eyes flicked down to the invitation of civilized nicety and summarily dismissed it, returning his gaze back to the man. “What can we do for you, Mr. Whitley?”

“Oh,” Whitley’s fingers curled in slightly and he retracted his arm. Straightening the lapels on his suit jacket, he set his briefcase on the rolling table and squared his shoulders. “My firm represents the Henderson family and they sent me to express their deepest regret over the unfortunate accident. In order to avoid any unwanted pressure on Mr. Padalecki,” he said the name carefully this time, enunciating each syllable like a child learning to form its mouth around a new word, “from the media, my client was hoping Mr. Padalecki,” slow again, “and his family would use the appropriate discretion when dealing with third parties and discussing specifics. My client is willing to compensate Mr. Padalecki,” a little faster that time, “and his family for their cooperation.” He popped the lock on his briefcase and shifted through the manila folders inside, opening a few before finally pulling one out from close to the bottom. He tugged a bank check free from a paperclip and examined the front. “Quite handsomely I might add.”

Jensen’s nails were digging into the meat of his palms, surely leaving crescent marks in their wake. He took a breath, swallowed, and then took another breath needing to find some modicum of calm before he responded. “I think your client was hoping that Mr. Padalecki and his family didn’t expose his good-for-nothing son for the menace that he truly is. Shine a harsh little light on that perfect home life Senator Henderson likes to tout in front of the magazines. The religious right might take exception to his pride and joy getting drunk and getting behind the wheel. But they’ll never know, will they? Henderson signs a check and problems just….” he flapped his hand back and forth, fingers waving, “disappear. Like it never happened. Is he the reason that the police wouldn’t give us the name of the other driver last night? Has he already gotten to them?” Jensen’s anger propelled him to his feet, his voice rising with each sentence. “How many of those checks have you pulled out of your briefcase to keep your client protected? Is this the first hospital room you’ve had to visit? Tell me, Mr. Whitley, how does it feel to go around and clean up Duffy’s screw-ups? Does Henderson pay you well to do his dirty work?”

Jensen stopped to inhale, gathering air to fuel the next tirade, but was cut-off before he could begin.

“Enough,” the voice wasn’t loud, but it echoed in the room, authority dripping off the one word. Aaron’s chest was heaving, his eyes hard and cold, but his tone never showed the anger clear in his body language. “Mr. Whitley, my brother is in a medically-induced coma. As of right now, we aren’t even sure the full impact his injuries will have on the rest of his life. It is extremely disrespectful of you and your client to broach this subject while my family is attempting to deal with this difficult situation. Please reassure Senator Henderson that our energy is solely focused on Jared’s recovery and that currently we do not have any plans to contact the press. I ask that he refrain from making any further attempts to contact us. When we are prepared to sit down and listen to any proposals that you might have to offer, we will contact you. I expect your client to extend us that courtesy.”

Jensen stood in shock. Aaron had barely spoken since their heart-to-heart in the waiting room yesterday, happy to let Jensen speak for him and take control of situations. He was proud of the way his friend had handled the situation especially since the next words out of Jensen’s mouth had included telling Mr. Whitley to do some highly inappropriate things with his briefcase.

Mr. Whitley seemed surprised, leading Jensen to believe that most people he approached fell over themselves to accept the money. He mechanically tucked the check back into the manila folder and shoved it back into his briefcase. “I’ll pass your wishes on to my client.” He closed the lid to the briefcase, the clasps snapping shut with a resounding click. Picking up the case, he adjusted the knot on his tie and moved to the door. Just before leaving, he looked back over his shoulder. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

When he was gone from the room, Jensen dropped heavily back into his chair. “You’re not really entertaining that offer are you? I mean your parents wouldn’t want do that, would they?”

“I wasn’t lying, Jen. I don’t have the energy or brain cells to deal with anything but helping Chester get better.” He placed his hand over Jared’s on the bed. “Mom and Dad won’t do anything until they’ve had time to consider.”

They were quiet for a few long minutes, the rhythmic sound of the ventilator the only thing disturbing the silence.

“Did you know?” Aaron had asked so softly that at first Jensen wasn’t sure he’d actually spoken until Aaron clarified. “That it was Duffy?” When Jensen stared at him, he shrugged. “You didn’t seem surprised when the guy said who he represented.”

“Yeah. That insurance guy told me. I was going to tell you but Mr. Whitley beat me to it.”

Aaron nodded and sighed, checking his watch. “Cafeteria is open. Think I’ll head down and get some decent coffee. You wanna come?”

“Nah. I think I’ll stay here and make sure Chester doesn’t wander off.” Jensen shifted on the seat trying to find a comfortable position in the hard plastic chair.

Aaron huffed a laugh. “You do that. I’ll be back in a few.”

Alone with Jared, Jensen clutched desperately at the blanket over the sleeping man, visions of Jared mangled and bloody in that twisted metal flashing behind closed eyelids, and wept tears into the cheap cotton blend.

*****

Adam and Lorelai arrived early the next morning bearing coffee and bear claws, dark circles and pale complexions belying the amount of sleep they swore they got. Aaron and Jensen had discussed the best way to tell the older Padaleckis about the visit the night before and Henderson’s offer, deciding on full disclosure. The Padaleckis didn’t keep secrets from each other even if by omission and now was definitely not the time to start. As Aaron predicted, his parents decided to table the topic until Jared was in a more stable stage of his recovery, Adam even going so far as to suggest it be Jared’s decision.

After the coffee had been drunk and all that was left of the pastries was crumbs, Jensen and Aaron were ushered out the door with orders not to return until at least mid-afternoon. They drug themselves home, Jensen crashing on the Padalecki’s couch so Aaron wouldn’t be there alone. He tossed and turned fitfully, sleep hard to catch and even harder to hold on to. He’d liked to blame his makeshift bed, but knew it had more to do with a spinning mind than the comfort of the couch. Jensen knew for a fact that this couch was perfect for sleeping, often finding a freshly-showered Jared there after a strenuous basketball practice. Thoughts of Jared only fueled the chaotic swirl of his brain, stealing more precious minutes when he should be sleeping.

He woke up that afternoon more tired than when he laid down and trudged to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Sitting at the kitchen table waiting for the thudding above him to become more coordinated and find its way down the stairs, he tried to infuse as much caffeine in his system as possible so he could make it through another day of waiting. Reminders of Jared were everywhere he looked. Jared’s backpack was beside the back door, his gym bag next to it – the top curve of his basketball visible through the gap where the zipper wasn’t tugged all the way closed. A clear glass jar sat on the counter, three quarters the way full of Double Stuf Oreos – Jared’s favorite since he was five and still called them oh-wee-ohs. There was a note on the fridge, asking for more orange juice the next time Lorelai went to the store, pinned under the same magnet as a sticky-note reminder that the tournament next weekend was in Evandale not Edenville, both signed ‘JT’ at the bottom under a big loopy heart. A picture of Jared with Chad at what looked like a football game was there as well, just below a copy of the picture of Aaron, Jensen and Jared that was on their phones. Jensen soaked in Jared’s smile, glossy and vibrant in Kodak color, until he couldn’t take it anymore and had to stare into his coffee so he could breathe properly again.

Half-way through his second cup, Aaron appeared looking no more rested than Jensen felt and humming in gratitude at the smell of the dark brewed coffee. Aaron cradled the mug between his hands and closed his eyes, inhaling the comforting scent deep in his lungs.

Taking a long pull, Aaron blinked his eyes open and smiled ruefully at his best friend. “You look like crap, man.”

“Says the walking pile of hammered dog shit,” Jensen shot back.

Chuckling, Aaron tipped an imaginary hat. “Touché. Mom called.”

Jensen sat up, all traces of humor gone from his face. “Something happen? Is Chester okay?”

“Relax. If something had gone wrong, I’d like to think I’d be a little more upset. She said they came in earlier and did some kind of breathing trial to determine if Chester could come off the ventilator. He must have passed or done well or whatever because they removed the tube. Dr. Sands,” he scrunched his face in thought, “Sims?” He shook his head and shrugged. “Anyway. Doctor Somebody has started dialing back the drugs keeping him in the coma. Mom said he should be off of them completely by tonight.”

Jensen’s heart thudded. He sat forward, his hands gripping his cup tightly. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Aaron smiled, small but happier than he’d been in days, “Chester should be awake soon.”

Jensen’s eyes fluttered in relief. He felt like crying. Snatching up his mug, he gulped down the last of his coffee and slammed the cup back down on the table. “Let’s go.”

*****

Chad had shown up sometime during the morning. He’d been in and out over the past few days, but with end of the semester exams he hadn’t been able to stay long. Jensen felt slightly bad for the kid, he’d taken on the task of dealing with friends and schoolmates, answering their questions and consoling their heartbreak at the news of Jared’s accident. He was single-handedly responsible for keeping the wave of well-wishers at bay so the family would have a little privacy; posting updates on Facebook and Twitter to keep everyone informed and prevent the ICU from being overrun with phone calls about Jared. Jensen didn’t know what they would have done without the little goofball. Chad might be a tad eccentric (Jared’s word, not Jensen’s), but he’d really come through when the family needed him.

Catelyn had just left, the last scheduled adjustment she’d made in Jared’s medication had been to stop the flow completely and now they sat on tenterhooks, waiting for signs that Jared was waking up. Catelyn had warned them that it could take hours or even days before Jared was awake, the longer a person was sedated, the longer it sometimes took for them to rouse, but it didn’t stop them from watching with baited breath. They talked the time away, hoping that their voices would help Jared find his way out of the dark.

“Yeah. Between the insurance guy and that attorney, yesterday was like the worst day ever,” Jensen said after Aaron recounted for Chad the circus that was the previous day. No sooner had the words left his mouth, he could hear a raised voice in the hallway beyond the closed door. He could have slapped himself.

The voice grew louder, mingled with a softer, placating one, as the owner grew angrier. Aaron stood up and moved closer to the door, head tilted to the side.

“That person should know better than to show their temper like that,” Lorelai chastised, hand smoothing over Jared’s arm. “This is the ICU, for crying out loud. People in here are really sick.”

Aaron’s eyes narrowed and he wandered closer to the door. The softer voice was gentle but insistent and worry was starting to bleed into the tone. “That’s Catelyn.” Aaron crossed the last few feet to the door and quickly stepped into the hallway.

Furious words drifted through the open space before the door closed again, threats to person and profession being snarled, implied violence underlining each word. Adam rose from his chair, headed after his son, but Jensen stayed him with a hand to the shoulder. “I’ll go.”

Chad followed him out and they moved toward the sound of the argument. At the entrance of the ICU, where the receptionist, Rosalie, sat armed with a list of approved visitors, a young man was yelling and gesticulating wildly at Catelyn. Even from the other end of the hallway, Jensen could see the rage pouring off the man. Aaron was standing between the two, one hand held out to keep the man away from the nurse, as he tried to defuse the situation.

“That’s Zach,” Chad hissed.

Jensen’s pace took on a new purpose, steadily and quickly eating up the space to the entrance, forcing Chad to hurry to stay in step.

So this was Zach. Jensen took in the man as he approached. Dark hair, blue eyes, athletic build, all-American good looks. Never let it be said that Jared didn’t have good taste. However, the man’s handsome features were marred by the look of fury contorting his face, transforming what should be stunning into sickening. The closer Jensen got, the clearer the words were.

“Look, I don’t give a shit what’s on that goddamn list.” Zach practically spat the words, accusing finger pointing at the sheet of paper on the desk in front of a frightened Rosalie. The girl, working part-time to pay for college, had the phone receiver to her ear, trembling lips whispering into the mouthpiece as wide-eyes watched the scene unfold.

“He’s my boyfriend and I demand you let me see him!” Zach railed.

“Boyfriend?” Aaron mumbled, stunned.

Zach rounded on Aaron. “Yeah, his mother-fucking boyfriend. You got a problem with that?!”

Catelyn flashed a gaze at Aaron before returning her attention to Zach again. Her voice remained even, but Jensen could hear the barely controlled restraint. “Sir, I have to ask again that you calm down, lower your voice and refrain from using profanity. This is a hospital and you are in a critical care unit. These patients need quiet and rest so they can recover.”

“I will not calm down,” Zach roared. “I already told you, bitch, I refuse to leave until you let me see Jared.”

The slur directed at Catelyn seemed to pull Aaron out of his daze and he put a hard hand on Zach’s chest. “Don’t talk to her that way,” Aaron seethed through his teeth.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” Zach brushed Aaron’s hand aside and moved in to shove him, but Jensen slotted himself between them. Shocked, Zach faltered, allowing Jensen to position his body better, his back to Aaron’s chest with his outstretched hands toward Zach.

“Hey, now. Let’s all just take a minute and breathe,” Jensen gave a false smile, muscling Aaron back.

“Security has been called,” Rosalie muttered, hand still holding the phone receiver dropping to her lap.

“Aaron?” He heard his best friend grunt in acknowledgement. “Why don’t you take Catelyn back to the nurse’s station and Zach and I will go into the waiting room and discuss a way for him to see Jared?”

Zach’s blue eyes flared dangerously, a war going on behind them. Jensen could see the desire to continue fighting, but the threat of Security had him reluctantly acquiescing. “Yeah, okay.” He said resentfully, eyes hard bits of sapphire.

“A way to see Jared?” Chad squawked. During the arguing, he’d moved into a protective position near Rosalie, ready to jump in where needed. “You can’t be serious, Ackles?”

Eyes glued to Zach’s, Jensen dug into his back pocket and slipped his wallet out. He reached inside and pulled out a dollar bill, handing it blindly over. “Chad, I think Rosalie could use a break. You should take her down to the vending machine and see if they have anything she’d want.”

“What about…” Chad spluttered, taking the dollar out of reflex.

Jensen forced his eyes away from Zach to look at Chad. “I got this. Me and Zach are just going over to the waiting room to have a little talk. Right, Zach?” He patted the guy on the chest, a hard smile on his lips.

The tendons in Zach’s neck stood out and he clenched his jaw. “Right,” he forced out.

“See?” Jensen said with mock joviality. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”

“Jen,” Aaron placed a hand on his forearm, posture hesitant.

“I got this,” Jensen repeated, infusing the words with confidence. It was the same thing he’d been telling Aaron all their lives, usually right before he tried to get them out of some trouble or other.

Aaron nodded, lips pursed in displeasure. “Come on, Catelyn.” With a hand to her lower back, he guided her back to the nurse’s station.

Chad gave him one long last look then smiled at Rosalie. “Wanna grab a soda?”

Still visibly shaken, Rosalie stood and moved down the hall with Chad.

“After you,” Jensen held his hand out to Zach, gesturing toward the waiting room.

It was a short walk, just two doors down on the opposite side of the hallway from the ICU entrance, but the thick tension between the two men made it seem longer. Jensen was relieved that the room was empty.

Zach spun around, his face tight. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You’re not going to stop me from seeing Jared.”

Jensen crossed his arms over his chest, “I already told you, I’m somebody you didn’t want to meet.”

Recognition flashed across Zach’s face and he bowed up. “You’re the asshole from the phone.”

“That would be correct.” Jensen stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated by the man before him. “I think I made it pretty clear during our last conversation that Jared is no longer your concern and that you were to stay away from him.”

“The fuck I will,” Zach bellowed, fist clenching at his sides.

“Yes, the fuck you will,” Jensen replied simply, rage simmering just underneath the surface.

“Jared’s my boyfriend and you have no right to keep us separated.”

“You know, you keep saying that – _Jared is my boyfriend_ ,” Jensen mimicked the other man’s voice, scrunching up his face and waggling his head side to side, “like it means something. But it doesn’t, does it? Not to you. For it to mean something, first _Jared_ has to mean something and he doesn’t. You don’t care about him. If you did, then you would have been worried when he didn’t show to pick up your drunk ass that night. You’d have been frantic knowing that he wouldn’t tell you he was coming and then not do it because that’s not the type of person he is. You’d have called, texted, hitched a ride…something, anything to know that Jared was safe. It wouldn’t have taken you three goddamn days to find out that he was in the hospital. No,” he shook his head jerkily, “if he meant something, you would have been by his side, holding his hand, talking to him, promising him that everything was going to be okay even when you were afraid it was a lie. That’s what people do when they care about someone. That’s what you would have done if you cared about him.”

The glare Zach was piercing him with throughout his rant, softened as blue eyes went round with realization. “You’re Jensen.”

Momentarily startled that the boy knew his name, Jensen recovered quickly and braced his hands on his hips. “What’s it to you?”

“Jared talks about you all the time, like you’re the second coming or something. He all-out fucking hero worships you. Never thought that shit ran both ways. What’s the matter, Jen? Jealous? Is that what this is all about? It twist in your gut that I’ve got him and you don’t?” He sneered and Jensen flinched unconsciously. Smelling blood in the water, Zach continued. “You ever think about tapping that sweet ass of his, Jenny boy? Let me tell you, you can’t even imagine how good it really is. Hot and tight, squeezing you so good. And those hurt little whimpers he makes,” Zach’s eyes rolled up and he groaned.

Jensen saw red. He fisted his hands in Zach’s shirt and he shoved him back into the wall, the younger man’s head thudding against the drywall. “Don’t you talk about him like that. Don’t you fucking talk about him like that.” He pulled him forward and slammed him back again. “I swear, you ever show your face around here again…”

“Is there a problem?”

Jensen turned to see four security guards standing at the entrance to the waiting room, their hands hovering over the tasers on their hips. Jensen unknotted his fingers from the fabric of Zach’s shirt and took a step back, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

“No, sir. No problem.”

“That’s him, Frank. That’s the guy I called you about.” Rosalie’s head was barely visible over the shoulders of the security guards. Chad was next to her, craning his neck for a better view into the room.

“I think it’s best you leave now, son. You’ve caused quite enough commotion for one night.” The tallest man, forty-something with a barrel chest and demeanor that screamed ex-military, stepped forward and motioned for Zach to come with him. The seriousness on his face plainly saying it wasn’t a request.

Pulling his shirt down and smoothing a hand over the puckers where Jensen had had hold of him, Zach pushed past Jensen, shouldering him hard in the chest. “This isn’t over Jenny. Not by a long shot.”

“Yeah, I think it is.” Jensen stared at the retreating man’s back.

Chad moved out of the doorway, tugging Rosalie with him, to let the angry young man and the four guards by. Watching them go, he wandered to Jensen’s side. “I was hoping to come in and find him a lying in a puddle of his own blood.”

“Thought about it,” Jensen shrugged. “Fucker would have just had me arrested for assault. I wouldn’t do Jared any good in prison.”

“True,” Chad agreed, “but it would have been an awesome sight.”

“That it would,” Jensen clapped the teenager on the shoulder. “Let’s get back to Chester.”

Scowling, Chad followed Jensen to Jared’s room.

*****

After that confrontation, the rest of the afternoon and evening passed uneventfully. As night drug on without any movement from Jared, one by one they started to doze off until only Jensen sat awake at the bedside. And that’s how he found himself, bone-tired and scruffy, on the third night…No, the fourth morning, he mentally corrected himself. He’d already been over that…after Jared’s accident. He sat forward and stretched his back out, wincing when the metal chair legs scraped across the linoleum. He looked around but everyone was still asleep. Adam and Lorelai were curled together on the small loveseat situated under the window, Aaron was twisted into a position that Jensen worried he’d never untangle himself from in a recliner on the opposite side of Jared’s bed and Chad was spread out across three waiting room chairs that he’d pushed together. Jensen propped his elbows on the side of Jared’s bed and carefully, mindful of the wrapping around Jared’s forearm, clasped Jared’s hand in both of his, lifting it up to press his lips to the scabbed and torn knuckles.

“You gotta wake up, Chester,” he whispered, pleading. “We need you. I need you.”

Jensen rested his forehead against their joined hands and stared at the ground between his feet. His head jerked up when cold fingers tightened around his hand before going slack again. He stared at Jared’s face in amazement as lashes fluttered slightly and lips twitched then went still.

“Guys, wake up!” Jensen jumped to his feet, leaning over the siderail. “Come on, Chester. You can do it.”

“Jen, what’s wrong?” Aaron stared up at him blearily.

Jensen could hear Loralei and Adam rousing and Chad cursing softly at the rude awakening, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jared. “He moved. He’s waking up.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know most people must think I've fallen off the face of the Earth, but I haven't. I'm still here and trying (again) to write and post consistently. If you're following my other stories, you should see updates on those soon (I'm working on Redemption now). This is not beta'd because I was too embarrassed to email it to my wonderful beta after radio silence for so long. All mistakes are so terribly mine.

 

The elation Jensen felt when Jared opened his eyes for the first time after the accident, quickly crashed seeing the pain and confusion on his friend’s face. He didn’t think anything could hurt his heart more than Jared, broken and bruised, trying to reassure _him_ that everything was going to be okay. He was wrong. As Adam calmly explained to Jared what had happened and tearfully divulged the extent of his injuries, Jensen felt Jared’s hand go lax in his as shock replaced the confusion. Carefully setting the slack hand back on the blanket, Jensen drifted away from the side of the bed until he bumped against the wall. He’d spent the past four days trying to prepare himself, steady his nerves and wall away his emotions, so that when Jared woke up, he would be the strong support that the younger man could rely on. Listening to Jared’s erratic breathing speed up, his stunned stammers that he didn’t understand and his watery pleas for someone to tell him what it all meant, Jensen realized he hadn’t done nearly enough.

The next few days were a blur of activity as Jared was moved from the ICU and underwent a barrage of test designed to conclusively determine the severity and permanence of his paralysis. Three days after Jared woke up, a week after his accident, Doctor Sands came into the room, a grim look on his normally placid face. Expectation was an oppressive weight in the room, strangling their voices and suffocating their lungs. He told them matter-of-factly that the results were back and that while Jared retained some sensory function, their testing showed no motor function in either leg. The tests would be repeated twice more in the coming weeks – Jared was in spinal shock right now and once the swelling had gone down, some patients regained some or all of their mobility – but Jared and his family needed to be prepared that his current condition may be his new reality. Jensen watched as Jared absorbed the news, eyes staring sightlessly at his lifeless limbs and trembling fingers ghosting over the scratchy blanket covering them.

After Jared’s initial reaction, he adopted a positive attitude toward his situation. He told anyone who asked that he was just happy to be alive, that he was lucky the injury wasn’t worse. The family seemed to take the acceptance at face value, but Jensen knew better. A storm was coming and it was only a matter of time before it broke.

Weeks passed. Adam and Lorelai put a small table top Christmas tree up in the corner of Jared’s room in an attempt to infuse some holiday spirit into their lives and liven up the off-white space. It helped, but the whole season was somber and subdued. Christmas morning, snow laid thick and white on the sill of Jared’s window, small flakes sticking in clusters of crystalline beauty on the pane. The room was littered with bits and scraps of festive paper and for the first time since _it_ happened, laughter filled the sterile space. If just for a little while, that whisper of hope, that frisson of despair was forgotten as they celebrated together.

New Year’s Eve found Jared’s room packed with friends and family, all wanting to ring in the upcoming year with the young man. The countdown show played on the small TV in the background while everyone told stories and enjoyed each other’s company. Nurses dropped in periodically to hiss shushes at the guests – having already bent several hospital policies severely by letting the crowd stay past visiting hours – while gifting the mop-haired reason for their willingness to turn a blind eye with fond winks. Jensen and Aaron floated around the room, talking and laughing with everyone while trying to keep the disturbance of the other patients to a minimum. Well, almost everyone.

Blue eyes glared at Jensen from their place seated next to Jared on the bed, a smug grin quirking up the corner of a full mouth. Zach had taken advantage of Jared being moved to a less guarded ward of the hospital and slipped in one rare day when the teen was without company. He apologized and begged for forgiveness, stated that his altercation with Jensen and Chad had been worry fueled and a complete misunderstanding. He pleaded for a second chance, layered it with assurances to never drink again, and Jared – loving, caring, _trusting_ Jared – had gifted him with it. Jensen balked when he first heard that Zach was once again going to be a presence in Jared’s life; his reaction mild compared to Chad’s outraged curses and Aaron’s agitated head shaking. All three men knew that Zach’s promises were as empty as his penitence, understanding that old habits die hard.

Still, Zach’s comment on the phone about making Jared do something he hated ate at Jensen. It niggled and nudged, plagued him when he saw Zach with Jared, until it felt consuming. It came to a head one day while he was flipping through a magazine, enjoying a companionable silence with Aaron and Jared. An article about turning exercise into something you wanted to do instead of something you were forced to do caught his eye, bringing back that threatening voice - _might even make you do that thing you hate –_ to the forefront of his thoughts.

_"Chester, has Zach ever hurt you or forced you do something that you didn’t want to?” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he was going to say them._

_Jared, hunched over a thick textbook attempting to catch up on the work he’d missed in the few days between the accident and the beginning of winter break, looked up from the problem he was working on and blinked a few times. After a short pause, he shook his head jerkily and wet his lips. “No. Wh-Why would you think that?” A nervous smile darted across his face, tripped, fell and tried to get up again._

_Aaron lowered the sports section of the newspaper and dropped his feet from their resting place on the end of Jared’s bed. He sat forward, eyes intent, the black and white stories and stats crumpling under the weight of his hands. “Yeah, Jen. Why would you think that?”_

_Deciding to go with honesty, Jensen shrugged. “When he called that day after the accident, he mentioned making you do something you hated as punishment for not picking him up.” He kept his tone neutral, devoid of accusation or recrimination. He wanted the truth and if Jared went on the defensive, Jensen knew he’d be hard pressed to get it._

_What little color Jared had gained back since the crash seemed to drain from his face and he stared at Jensen with his mouth slightly open. Jensen could practically see the hamster running the wheel in the young man’s brain falter._

_“Chester?” Aaron scooted to the front edge of his chair, the newspaper falling from his lap to the floor with a soft rustle._

_Jared turned toward his brother then back to his friend. Taking a slow breath to give the hamster time to start moving again, Jared answered, “hockey.”_

_“Hockey?” Jensen echoed, not expecting that explanation._

_“Yeah,” Jared sighed, the plastic smile on his face nicely complimenting the fake amusement in his voice. “Zach loves hockey. I mean, like_ really _loves it.” He drew out the word and widened his eyes for emphasis. “He practically worships the Blackhawks. He knows I can’t stand it, but insists on dragging me to any game he can, anyway. He probably just meant he was going to make me go to the next game.”_

_“Huh,” Jensen studied Jared’s face, seeing the parts where his forced cheerful expression wavered. “Wow, sorry. I guess I totally misread that.” He glanced over to see Aaron frowning._

_“It’s fine. I’d probably wonder the same thing if some guy I didn’t know said that about you. Thanks for worrying about me, though.” A small, but genuine smile spread across his face. “I guess you do care,” he teased._

_“Fucker.” Jensen tossed his magazine at the boy._

_Jared easily caught it and flung it back. Staring morosely at the page of unfinished equations, he sighed wearily. “I’ve had enough of this today.” He closed the textbook, neatly tucking his incomplete assignment between the pages to mark his place, and pushed the rolling table to the side. “Think I’ll take a nap before Mom and Dad show up.” The nurse had come in not long before to give him his medicine and it tended to make him tired._

_Aaron stood and moved the table further to the side, hovering in a way he hoped would go unnoticed in case Jared needed help getting settled. Everyone was still trying to balance their need to help and Jared’s need to do it on his own._

_The teenager shot his brother a knowing, reproachful look before blatantly adjusting himself against the mattress. “Y’all going to leave or stay a while?” Jared asked once he found a comfortable position, eyelids growing heavy._

_“We’ll stay. At least until Mom and Dad get here.” Aaron sat back down, picking up and rearranging his paper into some kind of order._

_“Mmkay,” Jared mumbled, sleepily._

_Jensen watched as Jared’s breaths evened out, his face slackening. He looked over and met the eyes of his oldest friend, both remembering the Red Wings poster that hung in a place of pride in Jared’s room for years, right below his autographed picture of Gordie Howe, but neither one mentioning it. A silent vow passed over the sleeping form to keep a careful watch on Zach._

At the party, Zach didn’t leave Jared’s side, basking in the overflow attention Jared received. At midnight, the whole room watched the ball drop, counting down in unison until the New Year lit up at the base. Hugs and kisses were exchanged and Jensen patiently waited his turn at Jared. Hugging him close and holding him tight, Jensen softly whispered, “Happy New Year, Chester,” in his ear before reluctantly letting him go.

“Happy New Year, Jen,” Jared answered just as quietly, giving a final squeeze before releasing him.

“Happy New Year,” Zach’s voice was an unwelcome intrusion and Jensen backed out of Jared’s embrace to see a steely look in the other man’s eyes.

Glancing at the outstretched hand, Jensen clasped it firmly. “You, too, man.”

Smug smirk back in place, Zach disengaged from the handshake with one final tight press. His fingers moved to wrap around Jared’s right wrist. “I’m sure it will be.”

Jared’s hand twitched in Zach’s grasp, an aborted movement as he suppressed his first instinct to jerk his arm away. His jaw tensed, the muscles and tendons in his neck rigid under the skin and a tight smile pulled at his mouth.

Jensen’s expression hardened, but before he could say anything, he was roughly pushed aside. “Quit hogging, Ass-ckles.”

Chad shoved his way into Jared’s space, receiving a one-armed hug. “Dude,” he exclaimed affronted, pulling back to stare angrily at Zach. “Unclench. I deserve better than a half-assed hug. I want a whole-assed one.” He tugged Jared’s arm and, reluctantly, Zach let go.

Jensen scowled at the reddened skin around Jared's wrist as lanky arms wrapped Chad in a full hug, pieces slotting themselves into place.

 

_Jared had always been an easy going kid, never getting too angry or riled up even in the face of Jensen and Aaron’s teasing. Unlike the older boys, Jared was more likely to back down from a fight; even though recent growth spurts had made him the bigger dog in most of them. He was the calm contemplation to temper their stormy agitation, a balance that worked for the trio. However, Jared’s congenial attitude had its limits and Jensen had discovered one such boundary entirely by mistake._

_He, Jared and Aaron had been sparring in the basement, a late season nor’easter blowing in several feet of snow and confining them to the house. Two days in, boredom had taken hold and they’d resorted to wrestling to expend some of their pent up energy. Jared had already bested his older brother, his wiry frame and lean muscles deceptively strong, and Jensen was now playing winner._

_He crowed in triumph as he pinned Jared to the ground, knees bracketing bony hips and fingers forming bracelets around slim wrists. “Now that's how it's done!” He grinned at Aaron, getting an eye roll in response. It was then that he realized how still the body beneath his had become._

_Jared's was frozen, his face pale. Black almost entirely eclipsed the hazel of his eyes and his chest rose and fell sharply, each exhale concaving his stomach. Parted lips trembled, sending a wave that Jensen could feel coursing through every muscle and bone under him._

_“Chester?”_

_The sound of his name roused Jared from his stupor. He writhed and bucked, wrists twisting and tugging to be pulled free, in an attempt to get out from under Jensen. Instinctively, Jensen clamped down with his knees and tightened his grip. At the increased pressure, the reaffirmed hold, Jared went still again. Jensen watched fascinated as pupils expanded, eating up the little remaining multicolored ring surrounding them, as Jared's unfocused gaze turned wild. He had a fraction of a moment to register his mistake, a grunt all the warning he received before Jared erupted into a flurry of movement._

_“Chester, come on. Stop.” The more Jensen tried to hold him, keep him from hurting himself, the harder Jared fought._

_“Let me go!” Wrangling one arm free, Jared pushed and beat at Jensen's arms and chest._

_Aaron moved closer, not sure how to help. “Chester, stop!” He dipped his voice low in the hopes his brother would respond to the authority in it._

_Jared shoved with this free arm and pulled against Jensen's grip with the other, unseating the older boy. Jensen tumbled over sideways landing on Jared's arm still held in his grasp just as the Jared twisted his body the opposite way. A resounding pop rent the air, rippling out and silencing the entire room._

_Jensen knew immediately what had happened, his therapy training meeting practical use, and he scrambled to his knees to brace Jared's arm before he could move it. Jared's face was contorted in pain, silent tears tracking down his face, and he gasped at Jensen's touch._

_“Chester?” Aaron was beside them, hand carding through Jared's hair. When Jared didn't answer, only bit his lip to keep in a whimper, he looked at his friend. “What was that?”_

_“Aaron, get your mom. He's dislocated his shoulder.”_

_As his friend ran up the stairs, screaming for his mother, Jensen ran the fingers of his free hand through Jared’s hair, murmuring, “I’m sorry, Chester. I’m so sorry” on repeat._

_Lorelai drove through the densely falling snow and icy streets like a Sunday school teacher on the way to church, all the while cursing like a sailor on shore leave. Jensen rode shotgun, body turned toward the backseat where Jared was cradled against Aaron’s side, fighting back tears at the pained whimpers the younger man couldn’t keep in when the car jounced over snow masked potholes. The Emergency Room was fairly empty, the dangerous conditions outside keeping all but those with truly urgent needs at home, and Jared was taken back almost as soon as they he came in, a feat expedited by Jared vomiting on the registration nurse’s desk when his arm bumped the side of her cubicle._

_Lorelai, Aaron and Jensen stayed with him in the small room as the doctor came and went and then waited alone as Jared went and came back from x-ray. Once Jensen’s belief was confirmed, they were led out into the hallway while the joint was put back in place. Even with fifteen feet of linoleum and a closed door separating them, Jared’s cry of pain as his shoulder was manipulated back into place made them all flinch._

_The doctor stepped from the room and addressed Lorelai. Jared’s shoulder was in position and he should be ready to go home soon. He ushered her toward the nurse’s station where a woman in pink scrubs was waiting with Jared’s prescriptions and home care instructions. Aaron exhaled a sigh of relief then excused himself to call Adam with the update on Jared’s condition, leaving Jensen alone._

_He stared at the closed glass door to Jared’s room for a long time before his feet carried him toward it, each step heavy with guilt. He knocked gently, gaining the attention of the nurse checking the IV tubing connecting a sleeping Jared to a bag of saline hanging from a pole at the head of the bed. She smiled and motioned him in, adjusting the blankets around the teen’s sling-bound arm._

_“How,” Jensen cleared his throat when the word came out strangled, “How’s he doing?”_

_The woman, mid-forties and motherly, looked fondly at Jared, the beginnings of crow’s feet crinkling the cocoa skin at the corners of her eyes. “He did well. The reduction can be just as painful as the original dislocation, but, let me tell you, he handled it better than a lot of grown men that I’ve seen.” She huffed a small chuckle. “Sweet thing even apologized for yelling out. I told him to holler to the rafters if he needed to, nobody would judge him.”_

_Jensen nodded, his eyes fixed on the pale boy on the bed._

_“We’ve given him some anti-inflammatories and pain killers so he’s a little woozy, but once he takes all this bag,” the nurse reached up and turned the saline bag to see how much was left, “like the good boy he is, we’ll be sending him home.”_

_“Good,” he licked his lips and swallowed around the lump that had taken up residence in his throat. “That’s, uh, good.”_

_“Yeah. He’s a fighter, that one. It won’t keep him down for long. I’ll come back in a few minutes to check on him.” The nurse rounded the end of the bed, her dark eyes scrutinizing Jensen carefully. She paused at his side, her warm hand squeezing his forearm gently. “Accidents happen, honey. Don’t blame yourself.”_

_Jensen appreciated the words, the sentiment. “Too late,” he whispered._

_The hand squeezed his arm again, before the warmth disappeared and the door snicked closed behind him._

_Jensen moved to Jared’s bedside and feathered his fingers over the complicated looking sling securing Jared’s arm against his side, noting the position of the straps and the closures. He picked a piece of lint off the black canvas and smoothed down the Velcro near his neck. Moving back, he was startled by hazy hazel eyes blinking at him slowly._

_“Hey.” Jared’s words were slurred, a goofy grin lopsidedly pulling at his mouth._

_A joke was on Jensen’s lips about the good stuff and light weights, but what actually came out was, “I’m so sorry, Chester.”_

_“S’kay, Jen.” Jared’s eyes drooped._

_“What happened, Chester?” It was the only question that had been swirling in his mind since it happened. What had he missed? Why had Jared freaked like that when just seconds before he’d been fine?_

_“Don’ like it.” Jared shook his head back and forth, hair scritching against the pillow, as his mouth turned down into a pout._

_“What? What don’t you like? Wrestling?” Jensen could see Jared was fighting the lure of the drugs, straining against the sleep he desperately needed to keep talking._

_“Held down. Scares me.” He mumbled, his bottom lip trembling at the admission. His right hand twitched, the wrist rotating, and understanding struck Jensen hard and fast._

_He reached over and lightly rubbed his thumb over the back of Jared’s hand, soothing the fidgety movement. “I promise, Chester. It won’t ever happen again. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”_

 

Jensen knew exactly what Zach did that Jared didn’t like and he hated him for it.

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

“Five, ten, twenty, thirty, thirty-five, forty-five, fifty-five, sixty-five, seventy-five!”

Jensen’s scowl deepened as each card was placed down, half-heartedly counting his own. 

Jared picked up his pen and pulled the tally sheet closer to him. He added a small 75 at the bottom of the column of numbers under his name. He looked expectantly at Jensen when the older man finished stacking his cards. “What did you get?”

“Minusfifteen,” Jensen mumbled, eyes showing his udder contempt at the small pile of cards on the rolling table.

“I’m sorry,” Jared replied, looking anything, but sorry, “What was that?”

“Minus fifteen!” He scooped up the cards and with restrained calm started to arrange them neatly. Aaron and Jared accused him constantly of being too competitive and he refused to give them any more ammunition.

“Fifteen?” Jared repeated airily.

“Yes, Chester,” Jensen was losing his grip on his control and he could see Jared pressing his lips together to keep from smiling, “fifteen.”

“Okay.” He added the number to the base of Jensen’s column. “Let’s see. Two hundred and ten minus fifteen is one hundred and ninety-five for Jensen. Four hundred and eight plus my way more impressive seventy-five is…five and five and carry the one…five hundred and fifty-five. Well, looky there. I guess that means I won.” The mirth was barely concealed on his face as we awaited Jensen’s reaction.

“Oh, shut up!” Control gone, Jensen threw his cards on the table, the slick wax surfaces skittering them across the top and into Jared’ slap. “I don’t know why I even play with you.”

Waving his arms in the air and shimmying, Jared did an awkward seated dance while crowing “I beat Jen! I beat Jen!” and laughing like the idiot that Jensen was so fond.

Jensen sat back with arms crossed, affecting an exaggerated pout, that only exacerbated Jared’s gloating and giggling. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “See if it happens again.”

Jared’s joy died a natural death, the young boy panting and wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes as a final few chuckles escaped him, and Jensen would gladly lose every game for the rest of his life just to see Jared this happy. Competitive nature, be damned.

Jared gathered up the cards, long fingers turning and shifting them into order so he could slide them back in the box. Grimacing, he pushed his hands into the mattress and adjusted his position.

Watching, Jensen had to force his hands to stay in his lap, deny the urge to get up and help. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Jared blew out a sigh, pushing his pillow further down to the small of back to offer more support. “Don't get me wrong, these beds are way better than the ones in ICU, but I'll be so glad to be home in mine again.”

Jensen nodded distractedly, mind's eye seeing the Padalecki's upstairs hallway, the plaid comforter visible past the open door leading to the last room on the left. Blinking, he smiled. “I bet. They say anything else about when they might spring you?”

“Soon, I hope,” Jared smiled, but it didn't hold, his fingers rubbing over the box of cards. “Dr. Sands is waiting for the results of this last test. They should be back anytime.”

“Change of scenery would be nice.” Jensen crossed his leg over his knee and played with the laces on his boot.

Jared had just undergone the last in the series of tests to determine if his paralysis was permanent. The first two hadn't been promising, but the doctor remained tentatively optimistic since there was still swelling. Everyone was banking their wishes for this one to be different.

“Tell me about it,” Jared mumbled, blackly. Seeing Jensen's concerned face, he shook his head and offered a small apologetic smile. Eyes drifting to the clock on the wall, he looked back at Jensen with a raised eyebrow. “Don't you have a date with Sean tonight?”

Thoughts still on Jared's fleeting bitterness, Jensen regarded his friend blankly, slightly thrown by the change in subject. “Who?”

Jared's face was the picture of amusement, the lingering clouds darkening his expression clearing. “The hot guy from high school you've been dating? About yeah high,” Jared raised his hand high over the side of the bed, “blond hair, dark eyes, nice smile and to quote you 'an ass to die for'. Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Oh, yeah, um,” Jensen rubbed the back of his neck, the leg balanced on his knee bouncing and making the plastic caps on the end of his laces tap together.

The mirth drained from Jared's eyes, replaced with a soft concern. “Is everything okay? Did y'all have a fight or something?”

“Or something.” Jensen quirked the corner of his mouth up and shrugged.

“Is that 'something' the reason your phone's been blowing up since you got here?” Jared picked up the pen and started doodling on the paper, darkening the scores and tracing over their names at the top. His voice was casual, but couldn't cover the curiosity underneath.

“It has not.” Jensen denied automatically, grinding his teeth when his pocket chose that moment to betrayingly vibrate.

The pen paused where it was bolding the 'J' in Jensen's name and he arched an eyebrow. “I'm crippled, Jen, not deaf.”

Jensen's reaction was harsh and immediate. “Don't say that,” he spat, eyes narrowed in anger.

A line of blue skidded across the page, jolted by the unexpected vehemence. “What? Crippled?”

“Yes,” Jensen seethed, the word whistled out between clenched teeth. “You're not crippled!”

Jensen could feel the anger tickling under his skin, bitter on his tongue. Jared was right. He and Sean had fought and over this very thing. In an off-hand remark, Sean had referred to the hurt teen as crippled. Just like now, the indignant ire flashed hot and bright. Directing his temper at Sean, he'd yelled and stormed out, never once able to convey the reason for his extreme reaction. He didn't have the words to express his objection. That word, his mind shied away from _handicapped_ and _disabled_ in much the same way,...it made Jared seem...less...labeled when he was no such thing. If anything, Jared was more. He was everything and Jensen knew that Jared would overcome this accident and whatever followed it.

Jared regarded him somberly before haltingly nodding his head in reluctant agreement. “Okay.”

“Good.” The tension began to ebb until the shake in his pocket had it flowing back over him. Why couldn't Sean take the hint that Jensen didn't want to talk to him?

Jared licked his lips and set the pen down. “Look,” he paused, considering his words, measuring them carefully, “I don't know what happened and its totally none of my business, but it seems like Sean’s sorry for whatever it was and wants to talk. You've only seen each other a couple of times, it couldn't have been that world ending. Except,” Jared gasped in mock horror, his eyes comically wide. “Did he,” he swallowed, hand going up to press over his heart. “Did he say something bad about Star Wars?” He whispered. “Because if he did...well, then good riddance.”

Jensen couldn't help himself, a chuckle worked through his annoyance and escaped. “No, nothing like that.”

“See? It couldn't have been about anything too important then.” He beamed at his friend, teeth showing and dimples on full display. It was a trick he'd learned long ago. Even the worst of Jensen's moods couldn't withstand the power of that smile.

He wanted to protest, argue that if was about something important – it was about Jared – but it withered under the brightness of that expression. He scowled, unwilling to let loose of his lingering and, he felt, justifiable bitterness at Sean.

“At least hear him out.” When he only got a disgruntled grumble, Jared added, “No matter the circumstances, the Jensen I know wouldn't just ignore someone. He knows misunderstandings happen. My Jensen would let him explain. He'd try to forgive.”

Whether it was intentional or not, the words felt like a low blow, gut shot. It was a reminder of Jared's own compassion, his ability to forgive Jensen for more heinous crimes than an offensive term in an thoughtless remark.

Sensing his victory, Jared jerked his chin in the direction of the hallway. “Go. Call him. If you do it now, you could probably still salvage your date for tonight.”

“Okay, Dr. Phil.” Pushing to his feet, Jensen dug his phone from his pants. “You're awfully vested in my love life, you know.”

“Vicarious bipedal living. Plus, you know,” he shrugged, “make-up sex.” Jared picked up the deck of cards, but the flap was not properly closed and the contents slid out all over the bed. “Oh, shoot.” 

“Bang,” Jensen answered by rote, still dazed a little by Jared's mention of sex. “Here. Let me help.”

“Not funny, “Jared scowled before waving him off. “I got it. You have a call to make.” He started collecting the cards in a pile.

“Back in a sec.” Jensen ducked out to the hallway and called a very apologetic Sean, making arrangements to meet up at Sean's place later. Turning around and reaching for the door handle, he almost grabbed another person's hand. He held his groan in when he was confronted with Zach's piercing blue eyes.

Both men took a step back.

“Zach.”

“Jensen.” Zach greeted coolly. “Didn't know you were going to be here. Don't you have your own piece of something to occupy your time?”

“Chester's family. Sean understands that.”

“Family,” Zach echoed with a disbelieving lilt, arms folded over his chest. “Right.” He leveled Jensen with a hard look.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jensen took a step forward. “Jared's like a little brother.”

“O-kay,” Zach chuckled.

Jensen moved toward the door and had just pushed it open slightly when a hand on his chest stopped him. “Get your hand off of me.” 

Unperturbed by the thinly veiled threat in that tone, Zach leaned closer. “I don't know if this is big brother protectiveness or you playing the long con to get in his pants, but Jared is mine. You'd do well to remember that.”

Jensen let the door close again, knocking the hand away and crowding into the other man's space. “What're you gonna do, tough man?” You gonna hold me down and make me do things I don't like?”

Zach's face faltered, his composed smile slipping before snapping back in place.

“That's right,” Jensen pressed, “I know. Chester's denying it, but all it'll take is one word from him. Hell, he even gives me an inkling and...”

“And what? Jensen will ride in on his white horse?”

“You're goddamn right I will. _You'd_ do well to remember that. And don't ever let me hear you refer to Chester as your 'piece of something'.” He brushed passed Zach and pushed through the door, fixing a smile on his face.

Jared's expression was blank, eyes volleying from Jensen to Zach, and Jensen wondered how much he'd overheard. “Everything all right out there?”

“Absolutely,” Zach moved to the side of the bed and leaned over the rail to give Jared a lingering kiss. Pulling away, he pecked Jared's slack lips again, greeting him with a soft, “hey, babe.” Turning around to scoot a chair closer, he winked at Jensen and mouthed “mine”.

A mixture of confusion and embarrassment clouded Jared's face. He typically shied away from public displays of affection and Zach's behavior appeared to have flustered him, fingers smoothing over the two cards left on the table waiting to be added to their re-boxed companions. He flicked his gaze at Jensen before giving Zach a small smile and a quiet “hello”. His attention on Jensen, he gave him a pointed look as he tucked the eight of spades away. “Okay?”

“Yep.” He lightly brushed his fingers down Jared's forearm in reassurance then curled them around the sidebar of the bed to keep from physically pulling Jared away from that jackass. “Listen I'm gonna cut out of here so I can shower before my date tonight.” He rolled his eyes at Jared's smirk. “I'm sure Zach will take real good care of you until Aaron or your folks show up. Keep you from wandering off. Right, Zach? You'll keep our boy safe, won't you?”

“You bet.” Zach shifted closer to Jared, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to kiss his fingers. “Can't let anything happen to _my_ boy.”

Jensen glared at the other man, startling at a nudge to his side, Jared's fingers poking him teasingly in the thigh. “Go get yourself all prettied up. Sean won't know what hit him.”

Jensen drug his eyes away from the challenging blue ones and graced Jared with a tender smile. “I'll be back later. “ He squeezed Jared's shoulder.

“You don't have to come back, Jen.”

“I'll be back later.” he repeated firmly.

“Okay.” A chuckle and a head shake with “have fun' following him out the door.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Jensen thrust hard twice, going deep and stilling with a grunt as his orgasm overtook him. Spent, he flomped over on his back exposing his sweat slicked front to the lazily spinning overhead fan.

“Mmmm.” An overly warm body rolled up to his side and draped itself across his chest. “That was fucking awesome.” Sean pressed a kiss to Jensen's chest.

“Or awesome fucking, depending on how you look at it.” Jensen leered, using the towel on the nightstand to hastily clean them up. He'd needed this, needed to bleed some of the suffocating worry and tension away, siphon it off on another person before it robbed him of every last breath. Leaning to the side, he dropped the towel and stretched his arm out to snag his pants from the floor. His phone had beeped with a text a little while ago, but he'd been otherwise indisposed.

Sean hummed his agreement. “Either way, I needed that,” he sighed, echoing Jensen's feelings. “We should argue more often if this is how we make up.” Getting no response, he shifted on his elbow to see Jensen frowning at his phone. “Everything all right?”

“Don't know,” Jensen mumbled, typing a quick response. Setting the phone on his chest, he noticed Sean's expectant gaze. “Chester's doctor has asked for a family meeting tonight at six.”

Propping his head in his hand, Sean traced designs Jensen's stomach, making the muscles jump as the nerves were teased by the light touch. “Do you know what for?”

Enveloping the other man's hand to stop the tickling sensation, Jensen stared at the ceiling and licked his lips. “Probably to go over the findings of the last test.” Jensen had a sinking feeling in his gut. “If they're calling in the whole family, it's probably not good news.” He watched the ceiling fan blades turn and took a deep breath. “I should go.” Levering up, he was stopped from completely rising by Sean's hand on his chest.

“Stay.”

“Sean,” Jensen grabbed the edge of the mattress to help him sit up, dislodging the other man's hand. “I can't. This is important. If it is bad news, I need to be there for Chester.”

“I understand that,” Sean sidled up behind him, “and I agree you should be there, but you're exhausted. You've been working non-stop with the university to set up your internship, spending your free time keeping Chester's spirits up and trying to spare what little's left for me. Something's gotta give.” He swept his hand up Jensen's arm to massage his shoulders, grinning at the groan it elicited. “You said the meeting was at six?”

“Mmhmmm.”

“It's only four now. Set your alarm and lay back down for a while. If tonight goes how you think it will, it'll be emotionally draining. You'll be able to handle it better if you get a little rest.” He pressed a series of kisses to the other man's neck.

Jensen deliberated, biting his bottom lip. He was tired, so very, very tired. Meeting with doctors and therapists and then working with the university to get them authorized for his internship had been a nightmare of paperwork and red tape to the point he felt cross-eyed filling it all out. He finally decided on a practice yesterday and all that was left was to let Professor Richards know his choice in the morning.

He'd decided to go with Dr. Wilder and his team of therapists. They specialized in sports medicine and rehabilitation and were a perfect fit for where Jensen wanted his career to go. His other option had been a more personal one. Dr. Blanchard operated a center that focused on the treatment and therapy of patients with traumatic injuries. He also just happened to have been Diane's boss for thirteen years. He was a godsend when she was sick and made sure she received her pay check every pay period even when the cancer had her bedridden. When she passed, he paid for her funeral arrangements and helped Jensen get everything settled with the life insurance company. Upon hearing that Jensen was returning to town for his internship, Dr. Blanchard quickly made it known that he'd like Jensen to intern at his practice and eventually become a member of his team. Jensen seriously considered it – he owed so much to the man – but, in the end, chose to follow his dream. Like Sean said, the whole process had really taken its toll on him and then everything with Jared...Jensen was ground down and wore out. He had a new respect for Jared and Lorelai when his mother was sick.

“Come on, babe,” Sean cajoled, tugging him back on the bed.

Jensen reluctantly followed his warmth down. He swiped his phone on and tapped in his passcode as Sean snuggled into his side. Thumbing the screen a few times, he set the alarm for five to give him time for a quick shower and still be at the hospital before six. Setting it back on the nightstand, he tucked his arms around Sean and drifted off.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Jensen shifted, grimacing at the pins and needles feeling racing up and down his arm when he tried move it. Tugging his numb arm free, he blinked at the darkness surrounding him. Shaking out the lingering prickles, flexing his hand to speed up the blood flow to his fingers, he batted at the table top beside him with the other, blindly searching for his phone. Fingers around the cool plastic, he pushed the Home button.

He jackknifed up, accidentally elbowing Sean. “Shit!”

“Ow!” Sean yelped, rubbing his side.

Jensen jumped up, slapping the light switch by the door and frantically searching for his things that had been carelessly strewn across the room.

“Jen? Babe? Wassamatter?” Sean slurred, wincing at the sudden brightness and running a hand over his face.

He threw a quick sorry over his shoulder as he struggled to right his jeans so he could get them on. “I'm so late. It's ten o'clock. My fucking alarm didn't go off. I must not have set it right.” He sat on the edge of the mattress and threaded both feet into the leg holes. Standing, he yanked them up, doing a little hop to seat them correctly, before setting out to find his shirt.

There was a tense silence behind him and Jensen turned to see an odd look on Sean's face. “Sean?”

Leaning back on the pillows stacked against the headboard, the blond met his gaze straight-forwardly. “I turned it off.”

“Wh-why would you do that? That meeting was important. I needed to be there.” He snatched his shirt from the chair in the corner and shoved his arms in the sleeves.

Sean stood, the sheets slithering down his body to coil on the floor. “You obviously needed the rest. Plus, you already knew what the doctor was going to say.”

“But Chester didn't!” Jensen exploded, yanking the shirt over his head. “He still had hope.” Shaking his head, Jensen stormed into the living room, looking for his shoes and needing some space between him and the other man.

“Jen,” Sean followed, heedless of his nudity. “I thought I was helping,” he moved closer, hands out stretched.

Stepping back, Jensen swiped his keys from the end table, “I can't talk about this now.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the dining room chair. “I gotta go.”

Down in his car, Jensen thumped his head back against the headrest and took a deep breath. Shifting to the side, he dug his phone out and hit the Home button. Text bubbles filled the screen interspersed with notifications of three missed calls from Aaron and two from Chad. Not only had Sean turned off the alarm, he'd silenced it as well.

He scrolled through the messages, blinking back tears.

 

5:45      Aaron: U on ur way?

5:53      Aaron: U coming?

Missed Call Aaron

6:02      Aaron: Dude, Where R U?

6:10      Aaron: Hurry up. Dr here.

Missed Call Aaron

6:35      Chad: Get the fuck down here. Its bad

7:00      Aaron: Tests negative

7:04      Aaron: Permanent

Missed Call Chad

7:08      Chad: U shud hv been here, asshole      

Missed Call and Voicemail Aaron

Missed Call and Voicemail Chad

 

He tapped the screen, retrieving the first voicemail. Aaron's voice played over the speaker, Jensen's body too shock numb to hold the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, so, um, I 'm guessing you saw my texts.” Aaron's voice was world weary and the utter desolation of it settled over Jensen, melding with his guilt, to create an oppressive, smothering blanket. He bit his trembling bottom lip and fluttered his eyes closed. “Barring a miracle, Chester's paralysis is permanent. They're setting him up for physical and occupational therapy to help him adjust.” The word broke at the end and Aaron cleared his throat. “Uh, on the bright side,” a hard swallow, “we should be able to bring him home soon.” The false cheer was painful to hear and Jensen was almost thankful when it disappeared in the pause that followed. “I think Mom and Dad are still in shock and I’m…I don't even know what I am. Chester...he's uh,” another hard swallow was audible, “being brave for us. You know him. He could be bleeding to death, but would use his last breath to ask if everyone else was okay.” There was a shaky sigh. “I'm not okay, Jen.” Repressed tears muddied the sentence, thickening it. “I really wish you were here.” The whispered confession was followed by a long, deep inhale and a sniffle. “Anyway, um, just thought you should know. The nurses are kicking us out so we're headed to the house. I guess we'll see you there sometime.”

Tears were freely running down Jensen's cheeks, but he paid them no mind as he clicked on the next voicemail.

“Look, asshole,” Chad's tone was low and acerbic. “You better get your head on right. Jared needed you tonight. He's seventeen and found out he's never gonna fucking walk again and his best friend, the goddamn asshole he hero worships, was too busy with a booty call to be there. Now, Jare, he's a nice guy and for some reason thinks you shoot rainbows out of your ass, so he'll forgive you.” A derisive huff. “But I won't. You fucked up big time, man. I suggest you figure out a way to make it right.”

Jensen deleted the voicemail and tossed his phone on the passenger seat. Fingers curling over the steering wheel, knuckles blanching, he took several deep, shuddering breaths.

It was permanent. Jared was paralyzed. 


End file.
